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bluebeary-jay · 10 months

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Face to face

Din Djarin x f!Mandalorian!Reader

Summary: as riduurs, you and Din can finally show your faces to each other without suffering any consequences. but when the time finally comes, your insecurities and fears of rejection come into play, threatening to ruin this important moment

Tags: just pure tooth-rotting fluff, Din and Reader being insecure, they're sweethearts though and so in love, Din being a supporting husband <3, mandalorian customs are probably half-accurate but i did my best in research 😌

Word count: 3K

A/N: haiii guys!! long time no see 🤗 i had this idea ever since i watched s2 of the mandalorian almost a month ago and i'm finally done! thank you to all who stick around and i really hope you'll enjoy my first attempt at writing din (feel free to let me know what you think 🤭)! i love all of you darlings 🥰 and as always, happy reading!! 💕

Din Djarin wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone, but he always wanted a family. The memories of his parents were hazy, but he remembered how much they loved each other and in the depths of his soul longed for a connection like this someday. Being the bounty hunter didn’t give many opportunities to look for a relationship, however, and with time he abandoned the hope for a place and people he could call home. He convinced himself that he was content being on his own.

But then the Child came along, and with it everything has changed. This little wrinkly womp rat became the most precious being in his life and Din was ready to die to protect Grogu – but he never expected that he’d also meet his future riduur because of the kid.

He did. You, a fellow Mandalorian Din spoke to only a couple of times in the hideout on Nevarro, decided to help him on his quest, and from this moment on he didn’t stand a chance. You were everything Djarin admired – brave, compassionate, skillful and kind – and though you both respected the Way of the Mandalore and never removed your helmets in each other’s presence, he knew in his soul that you were beautiful as well.

It was a long road to come to terms with what he felt for you and gather the courage to actually let you know it. But it was all worth it just for this moment when you exchanged your vows and he officially became yours, and you his. Now you were his riduur and he finally had every right to admire and cherish you like you deserved.

And most importantly, he could finally see you. The pair of you talked about this moment a lot during the nights spent on the Crest, tangling your fingers together when the ship was flooded with pitch-black darkness. Din used to whisper to you of his dreams, how he longed to run his eyes over your uncovered body, taking his time to commit to memory every little detail of your physique and expressions. You, with a giddy and wistful tone, told him how impatient you were to at last find out how his lips would feel on yours and what color his eyes were. Even when you both knew you were going to marry, you didn’t rush things and never removed your helmets until your union became official.

But you did see each other’s faces, once, though not in a conventional way. Din remembered it clearly as a day, though his eyes – as well as yours – were covered by a piece of a material the entire time. Both of you were desperate for each other that night, the tension hanging above your heads straining the resolve about waiting. And then came the moment when you didn’t fight it anymore. Instead, you both sat down on Din’s cot and without your sense of sight spent the next hour talking and trailing fingertips down each other’s faces.

Din reminisced about this moment a lot of times. He tried to remember the shape of your features to create a full picture of you in his mind while he laid alone in his bed, longing for your vicinity. Even if your bodies were separated only by the layers of beskar, it was still too far for him.

He didn’t have to wait any longer now.

It was the day of your wedding and Din Djarin never felt happier than in that moment when you recited Mandalorian vows and he got to touch your bare hand again, not covered by a glove, to put a custom-made ring on your finger. It wasn’t a necessary but he wanted to make this day memorable and meaningful for you. A few tears of joy were shed, but his face was still concealed by the helmet, allowing his emotions to take hold of him.

He hadn’t let go of your hand since the small ceremony (if one could even call it that) ended, and you squeezed his palm every few steps as you walked toward a house that was going to be your home for the next couple of days. The Child was being taken care of by other Mandalorians so that you could be completely alone for this special moment.

You were buzzing with excited energy for the whole week prior to your wedding, but now Din could sense his partner’s nervousness. He wasn’t exactly surprised – after all, it has been years for both of you since anyone saw you without your helmet on. But with every moment that you neared the bedroom, you seemed more insular, more withdrawn and hesitant, and Din started to really worry.

“Are you okay, cyar’ika (darling)?”

You slowed down, not answering right away, which caused Din to furrow his brows with confusion. Maybe you didn’t want to do it after all? Maybe it was too sudden for you? Or maybe he came off as too eager?

“Cyar’ika,” he repeated softly, wanting to put you at ease – but it didn’t seem to meet the target. “If you’re not ready…”

“No. No, I’m ready. I just…”

You trailed off. Din wordlessly guided you to the edge of the bed, cradling your hands in his – one gloved one and one not. The light of the setting sun flowed in through the small window and reflected off the hard beskar you both wore, bathing your figure in a beautiful golden light.

He was already so in love with you. What could possibly be the cause of your hesitation?

“I’m just nervous,” you murmured at last with your head bowed, looking at your joined hands. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” the Mandalorian repeated before he could think, and shook his head slightly. “What are you… What are you talking about? Why would I ever be?”

You lifted your gaze, and though Din couldn’t see your eyes, he could almost feel the weight of your fears on his own shoulders. The modulator in your helmet was hiding any trace of it, but he knew you long enough to recognize the tiniest shift in your body language.

“Ner kar’ta (my heart). I could never be disappointed with you.” He laced his fingers with yours, once again admiring how perfectly they fit together, and lifted them to his chest. “You own my heart and soul now, and nothing will change that.”

He hoped to soothe your nerves, but you were still silent. It wasn’t at all what Mando was expecting from this evening and he was at a loss for what to do to fix it.

“Would it help if I showed you my face first?” he asked after some time, and your head snapped up.

“No.” Even with the modulator, your voice clearly sounded broken and regretful, and it was wounding Din more than anything else could. “We were supposed to do it together.”

“We can,” he assured quietly, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. “But the most important thing to me… is for you to feel comfortable during it. If you want to wait–”

“I don’t.” You untangled your hands from his hold and instead brought them to his chest, placing them on the beskar breastplate. He couldn’t wait to take it off and feel your touch on his skin. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t marry you and make you my riduur.”

You leaned forward and lightly bonked your helmets together, a sweet gesture Din loved since the first time you did it.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum or’atu an mayen. (I love you more than anything.) More than life itself.”

“I know,” he answered simply and delicately brought your hands to the edges of his helmet. It was obvious what he was offering you. “That’s why I’m willing to do it for you.”

You were still, not daring to move, and Din nodded slightly to show you that he’s certain of his decision. His heart was beating heavily in his chest, though, and he could feel sweat forming on the back of his neck.

Showing your face to others was one of the worst crimes in Mandalorian culture, but doing it with your riduur was the highest honor that not everyone was fortunate enough to experience. But Din Djarin was among the lucky ones. Even though it was not in a way he always imagined, he didn’t care as long as you were happy.

You gripped the edges of his helmet tighter and a high hiss sounded, a telltale sign that the metal piece was ready to be removed. And slowly – so very slowly – you did. Din felt a flow of cooler air on his hot skin: first his chin, then his cheeks, finally his forehead…

And lastly, he inhaled shakily before lifting his head to look into the void of your visor.

A second passed by. Then two. Then ten, though Din felt like it must’ve been a full minute now. And still you didn’t move, just watched him silently, motionless as a statue.

The Mandalorian swallowed with difficulty, starting to feel very self-conscious. The crisp air cooled the sweat gathering on the nape of his neck and he had to use all his self-control not to fiddle his fingers nervously. He felt so naked and exposed under your gaze, though he absolutely shouldn’t – you were his riduur and there was no reason to feel ashamed or insecure with you. But he couldn’t help worrying: what if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you didn’t find him attractive at all?

Then a movement of your hands drew his attention and he watched, transfixed, as you slowly started to take off your glove, tugging one finger off at a time. Once your hand was freed from the confines of the protective material, you flexed your fingers before lifting both of your palms to his face.

Even though Din was acutely aware of your every move, he still somehow flinched in surprise at your touch, causing you to freeze and search his eyes with the air of concern around you. He quickly gave you a small nod, silently begging you to proceed, and, thankfully, you did. Your fingertips traced his cheeks, so delicately it almost tickled, brushing down the path to his stubble, and then back up to the arch of his nose and eyebrows. Djarin’s eyelids fluttered closed and he let out a shaky breath, giving in to the most amazing sensation that your touch was.

“I knew you had to be the most beautiful being in the galaxy,” you whispered from under your helmet with a voice filled with a plethora of raw emotions. Din regretted not being able to see your face at that moment, but if it would help you feel more comfortable in such a memorable and important situation, he was ready to do anything for you.

“I’m sure you’re a million times more radiant, cyar’ika,” he said back. His voice was weirdly weak and raspy, sounding strangely to him – probably because he knew there was another person hearing him without his helmet on. “Even if I don’t see your face, mesh’la (beautiful), today or ever… The love I have for you will never change or waver. That I promise.”

“It won’t exactly be fair to the Creed if I don’t remove my helmet in front of my husband,” you answered, half-teasing, but Din knew there was a real worry behind your words.

“You know very well there’s nothing said about it in the Creed.” He opened his eyes, offering you a small smile. “And I don’t remember our vows mentioning it, either.”

You clicked your tongue with exasperation, but Din also saw your shoulders relaxing, a sign that some of your nerves ebbed away.

“Gev bic (stop it),” you laughed, letting your hand fall down – but before it could happen, Din caught your wrist and lifted it back to his face. He slowly kissed the inside of your palm, down to the veins disappearing under your sleeve, his eyes fixated on your visor the entire time. His smile grew slightly when he felt a shiver run through you.

“I love you, ner kar’ta,” he whispered. “Even if you’re a half-Hutt under your armor.”

“Don’t push it.”

You let go of his hand and Din’s face fell, fearing that he really went too far. He reached for you but stopped when you straightened up and took a deep breath, your hands going to the last thing that separated you from him – your helmet.

He held his breath and his heart beat erratically as he watched you. He tried not to blink, not wanting to miss the moment when he finally got to see your face. Just the fact that you were willing to do this meant so much to him, but…

Slowly, you took your helmet off and placed it down on the mattress right next to his. Then, a pair of irises gazed into the depths of Din Djarin’s heart.

…you were wrong.

Oh, how wrong you were.

There was no mistaking it that you were by far the most breathtaking sight the Mandalorian had ever laid his eyes on.

The Maker must’ve been overly generous, or maybe favored you, for looking at you… it felt like coming home.

You stared at him with gentle, tentative eyes of the most beautiful color in the world, and Din would’ve gladly lost himself in them. Your lips, so tempting and soft-looking, were parted slightly as you awaited his reaction, but he couldn’t move. He just watched, spellbound, and wondered if this truly is reality and not some cruel, elusive dream.

He hadn’t felt such awe even when he saw Grogu doing his magic for the first time. Hadn’t felt such elation even when a new skin made of beskar was forged just for him. Had never before felt such love in his life.

You were a wonder. A miracle.

“Cyare?”

Your voice sounded almost fearful to your ears, but you couldn’t help it – Din seemed unable to utter even a word, and panic started to flood your veins when you noticed tears gathering in his dark, beautiful eyes. “Din–”

But before you could move away, he slipped off the bed and knelt by your feet. You were so taken aback by this action that you didn’t even react when he cradled both of your hands in his and pressed lingering kisses to your fingers, one after another.

“If I could, I’d marry you all over again,” he rasped, meeting your gaze with so much love and adoration in his brown eyes that it took your breath away. “How did I get so lucky…?”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you let out a breathless laugh of relief, your pupils darting across the lines and grooves of his face. “You… you’re not just saying that, right?”

“Cyar’ika, look at me.” He gently tilted your chin up, making your eyes meet his. For a second he faltered, parting his lips in wonder at the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, before he swallowed and gazed at you again. “Do you doubt my words?”

No. There was really no questioning his motives. You knew Din was as honest as one could be and there were only your own insecurities at play here. But the longer you looked at him, his expression so full of love and devotion, the less relevant your own doubts were becoming.

You couldn’t think of anything else but him.

“I really want to kiss you,” you whispered instead of answering, and his face broke into a wide, joyous grin. “Can I–?”

The Mandalorian didn’t even wait for you to finish – the second those words left your mouth, he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours forcefully, eliciting a surprised sound out of you, which soon turned into a needy whimper. You didn’t give him a chance to back away and instantly tangled your fingers into his hair, moving clumsily to be closer to him.

But when you attempted to climb onto his lap, your breast plates collided with a metallic clank, forcing the pair of you to put some space between you. Din huffed with frustration, while you laughed and cupped his face in your hands.

“You’re quite impatient for a bounty hunter,” you accused him playfully, nudging your nose with his. You took a deep, calming breath, wanting to surround yourself with the smell of him completely, but your riduur didn’t let you indulge for long.

He moved quickly and, without a warning, kissed you briefly again – and then one more time. It was more like a light peck, and you longed to feel his tongue inside your mouth once more, but at the same time relished in every sensation that his lips brought. Every touch he gave you was something infinitely precious.

“I’ve waited longer than you,” he murmured. His hands were already moving, taking off the beskar on his forearms and shoulders, reaching where he could without removing you from his lap just yet. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, cyar’ika.”

You smiled widely and looked up from his deft fingers to throw another teasing comment, but in one second you lost your train of thoughts.

Because Din was blushing.

The feared Mandalorian’s face – a face you were finally allowed to see whenever you desired – was sprinkled with redness across his cheeks and ears. And you were the cause of that.

The thought of it almost caused your eyes to water.

“What are you looking at, mesh’la?”

Your eyes found him again and you smiled brightly, causing Din’s heart to skip a couple of beats.

You took his stubbly chin in-between your fingers and brought his lips closer, planting a soft kiss there that had the Mandalorian melting. He covered your hand with his, feeling the band on your finger under his own.

A miracle.

“I’m looking at you.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fic #this man needs to be PRAISED he needs to be LOVED and CHERISHED !!!!!#imagine having pedro pascal's face and still being insecure 😔 /j

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spencerreiddddd · 3 months

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No second chances • 2

Content: Angst, NO HAPPY ENDING.

Gist: Part 2 of “No second Chances”

You held your head in your hands, it had been 3 hours here at the BAU base and you were genuinely loosing your mind.

Your past had been something you had successfully buried, you moved on. Yes,of course it took time… 2 years to be exact to even be able to trust a man into your life again. To show vulnerability emotionally and physically in your relationship, but James waited he was patient, he took care of you, he never made you feel unworthy, if your being honest that’s what made you fall for him.

It took you 2 years to build your trust with James, he proposed and you accepted. He offered you stability, he offered you everything Spencer didn’t.

A loud knock comes from the door snapping you out of your thoughts. It was Spencer….

“Can I come in?” He said quietly like a mouse being caught when the lights turn on. “Yeah, sure.” You say moving over on the couch in the break room. Spencer walks over and sits down, leaving a gap between you and him.

“Owen is your spitting image.” Spencer says breathily. “He really is, everyone always tells me, However he has his dad’s brains.” You laugh quietly smiling at the image of Owen in your head.

“Are you happy?” Spencer blurts out, looking at your face searching for something to tell him you weren’t.

You look at him, annoyance flashing over your face making Spencer cringe. “I am, I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.” I say directly looking at him in the eyes.

“How long did you wait?” He asks cupping his hands together and looking down at his feet. You grew angry, Spencer had no right to interrogate you on how you moved on from him.

You got up and moved to face him. “Stop it Reid. You have no right to ask me how long it took ME to move on. You have no right whatsoever when YOU were the one that took everything we had and threw it away for another woman.” You say anger brewing in you eyes, you might even say a bit of disgust for this whole situation your in right now.

“But I’m here, I’m standing here in-front of you now. I regret what I did every single day believe me Y/N.” He says now standing up and towering over you grasping for your hands. “Let me fix this, let me fix us.” He continues desperately looking into your eyes. However those big puppy dog eyes did nothing to you now as they once did before.

“You’re here now?!” You scoff almost laughing. “You’re here now that I’m married to a man who treats me the way I should be treated and more?! You’re here now that I have a child who needs me?! Who needs their dad?! You’re here now?!” You stare at him in disbelief.

He looks at you pleadingly. “I love James, I do. It would be unfair to him for me to ruin a healthy marriage, and destroy my son’s life, it not worth it because you are not worth it.” You say almost spitting at him.

Spencer flinches at your words, he was looking at you but he didn’t recognize you….You were no longer that lovestruck girl who bought him mismatch socks for his birthday, you were no longer that girl who read the books he talked about so he could be able to discuss them with you. You weren’t showering him with love after a long case.

Reality set in, he didn’t know you anymore and worst of all you didn’t want him anymore. He searched in your eyes and he couldn’t find any love you held for him. All he saw was anger, his consequences had caught up to him.

“Is everything alright in here?” James said making you and Spencer flinch. “Yeah, just catching up with Spencer.” You say putting a smile on your face as you turn to look at James.

James had a confused and concerned expression on his face, he could clearly tell by your body language that you were uncomfortable. That told him enough and he walked into the room and handed you a coffee while placing his hand on your waist and walking you out the room.

Unbeknownst to you James stared at Spencer the whole way out of the room with a look that let Spencer know James had caught on, and that he wasn’t welcomed.

Thank you so so sooooo much for the love and support on the first part, I genuinely had no idea this would blow up the way it did and I am entirely grateful. Hopefully the second part wasn’t a let down but I think Y/N was in the right for not falling into Spencer’s pleads and not ruining what she has now.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #angst #no happy ending #criminal minds imagine #oneshot #imagine #spence reid

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persevereforahappyending · 2 months

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A Legacies Secret |8|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 6.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Sam wiped away her tears as she left Tara’s hospital room. She jumped as the door slammed closed behind her. Tara didn’t need her, she had you now, maybe Tara never needed her. She left, she didn’t have a right to tell Tara what to do or judge the decisions she made. Sam left and her little sister grew up without her, she was an adult who had no need for her big sister anymore.

Sam once again jumped back when she turned away from the door and right into Richie. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s me,” Richie said softly, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “It’s okay.”

“Were you listening at the door?” Sam asked, staring at Richie. It was kind of obvious he was listening at the door, just as you probably were, given how quickly you ran into the room. She needed to hear Richie confirm it himself though.

“No, no, of course not,” Richie tried to wave it off. “Okay, yeah, I was listening at the door,” he just as quickly caved, admitting he in fact was eavesdropping.

“It doesn’t freak you out, that my real father was a serial killer?”

Sam searched his face, wondering why he hadn’t run the second he learned the truth. Sam hated her birth father, she hated herself, she hated being related to him, as much as she loved her sister, she couldn’t blame Tara for hating her now as well, she fully expected the same from Richie. You already weren’t a fan of hers, learning this would probably make you officially hate her even more. Sam couldn’t see how anyone could like her, let alone love her, knowing who her father was and what he did.

“I mean, yeah,” Richie nodded, giving her an awkward smile. “A great deal.”

“Okay, go, I get it,” Sam shook her head, trying to keep control of her breathing and not breakdown. She had met an awesome guy, a nice guy, and now she had ruined that relationship, just like every other relationship in her life, all because of who her father was. “I just got to stay and figure it out.” Sam didn’t care if Tara hated her, she didn’t care if her sister never wanted to see her again, this was all her fault and she wasn’t leaving until she learned who attacked her sister, she wouldn’t rest until she knew her sister was safe.

“I’m not leaving you here Sam.” He said it so simply, as if leaving her there alone never even crossed his mind. Sam couldn’t see how that was a possibility, if Richie were smart, he’d leave her, anyone else would have.

“If you were smart, you’d get the fuck out.”

“Well, then maybe I’m not smart,” Richie said softly, stepping forward and taking Sam’s hands in his own. “Because I’m staying.” Sam looked up at him in disbelief, she truly couldn’t believe the words she was hearing, she couldn’t fathom why any sane person would stay when all this was going on, why anyone would stay with her knowing how messed up she was.

Richie looked down, opening a closing his mouth slightly as if he were nervous to say what he wanted to say before looking back up, looking Sam directly in the eye. “I love you,” he said, his voice shaking with each word. Sam’s eyes darted around, searching his face, she truly couldn’t believe he said that. It was the first time Richie had ever said those words to her, she wasn’t sure if him choosing this moment proved how much he loved her or proved how crazy he was for being willing to stay during this insanity.

“You’re a dumbass,” Sam said. She wasn’t ready to say those words back yet, she wasn’t sure what was keeping her from it, she had known Richie for six months and they had gotten along right away, becoming friends long before they started dating. Sam just couldn’t bring herself to say ‘I love you’ back.

“So, your sister won’t talk to you,” Richie caressed Sam’s face, then began running his hands through her hair. “The police aren’t going to help, what’s our next move?”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly as she realized what Richie said was true. She knew Judy had an officer on Tara’s room and others in the hospital, but they still weren’t anywhere close to actually figuring out who Ghostface was, so they were truly on their own in trying to catch this psycho. “We go talk to an expert.”

Sam approached the trailer of Dewey Riley, with Richie right behind her, one of the perks of living in a small town was it was pretty easy to find someone, it took her less than a minute to get Dewey’s address. She didn’t know what to do, the only thing that made sense was talking to someone who was there at the beginning, who had survived this kind of stuff before. Technically Sheriff Hicks also survived but she didn’t like Sam and she barely counted as being apart of the whole thing. Therefore, it left Dewey, he was also the only one still in town, everyone else was either dead or had some sense and got out of town.

Dewey was still sheriff before she left town, he was sheriff during all the trouble she caused. She had remembered seeing Dewey around the station, but she had never interacted with him. It was always deputy Hicks she had the displeasure of interacting with. Sam was also never officially arrested, Judy usually brought her home, occasionally when she was feeling petty, she’d cuff Sam, throw her in the back of the cruiser, and bring her down to the station until her mom could pick her up. No, the only person Sam saw Dewey regularly interact with was you.

“Go away!” a voice shouted from inside the trailer as soon as Sam knocked on the door.

“Sorry to bother you Mr. Riley,” she yelled back. “We just want to ask you a few questions.” She really needed Dewey to open the door, if he didn’t talk to them, she wasn’t sure what she would do, she had no idea how to prepare for a psycho coming after her and her sister.

“I don’t give interviews.” Dewey sounded more irritated. Sam couldn’t blame him, she couldn’t imagine what his life has been like, surviving all those attacks and being good friends with Sidney Prescott. Dewey’s life was probably filled with nonstop questions, people and reports asking him to describe what happened to himself and to his friends. It couldn’t have been easy being constantly asked to relive probably some of the worst days of your life.

“We’re not looking for an interview.”

Dewey’s face suddenly appeared in the little window of the door to his trailer. “Give me one good reason I should talk to you.”

“I’m Billy Loomis’s daughter,” Sam said, staring Dewey right in the eyes. This was the first time she said she was Billy’s daughter and didn’t hesitate, she didn’t question the words leaving her mouth.

The next thing she knew Dewey was opening the door. “That’s a terrible reason for me to talk to you.” Dewey was no longer yelling, Sam wasn’t sure if that was a plus though, he just seemed exhausted now.

“My name is Samantha Carpenter,” Sam continued, Dewey at least opened the door, and she didn’t intend to back down now. “I was attacked last night at the hospital. The night before that my sister was stabbed seven times. I know you know what that’s like,” she said the last part softly. She might have wanted Dewey’s help, but she didn’t want to seem unsympathetic. “I’m just trying to protect my family,” Sam sighed. “Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I’ll give you two minutes,” Dewey agreed, though he sounded firm in only giving them two minutes. Sam wished it had been more, but she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity, this could be the only chance to get some advice from someone who survived not one attack but multiple. “I’m missing a show I like.” Dewey went back into his trailer, leaving the door open for Sam and Richie to enter.

“Gale Weathers,” Richie said as he and Sam walked into the trailer. Dewey had her morning show on but quickly turned it off as the three of them sat down. “Weren’t you two…” Sam held in a sigh; she was starting to regret bringing Richie along with her.

“Yeah,” Dewey said in a tone that made it clear he didn’t want to talk about it. Dewey took an aggressive sip of his coffee, flicking a glare at Richie before focusing his attention on Sam. “Who’s he?” he nodded to Richie.

“This is Richie,” Sam said. “My boyfriend.”

Richie smiled, readjusting in his seat as if he were about to offer his hand to Dewey and introduce himself. “How long have you known him?” Dewey never gave him a chance to introduce himself, he never even looked at him again, he just got right down to business.

Sam was a little taken aback by the question. “Six months,” she answered anyway, though she was a little confused as to why Dewey was asking.

“Did he know who your dad was when you met? Express any interest in Woodsboro or the Ghostface killings?”

Sam gave an awkward smile, turning to look at Richie, she wasn’t sure if Dewey was actually serious. She came to him for advice not to be questioned about her relationship.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Richie asked awkwardly. He kept glancing at Sam as if wanting her to confirm if Dewey was serious.

“Your killer is obsessed with the Stab movies, right?” Dewey asked, leaning back in his chair. Sam nodded, hesitant but curious as to where he was going with this. “Well, there’s certain rules to surviving a Stab movie. Believe me, I know.” Dewey looked off to the side, looking out the window as if his mind went to another place for a second. “Rule number one, never trust the love interest,” he shook his head, looking right at Richie. “They seem sweet, caring, supportive, but then welcome to act three, where they’re trying to rip your head off.”

“I was with Sam in Modesto when Tara was attacked,” Richie said, instantly defending himself. Sam was looking at Richie, nodding her head to confirm what he was saying. They were together that whole night, she didn’t even get the call about Tara until the next morning.

“And let me guess,” Dewey continued, sounding more cynical as he went on. “You were just in the other room, conveniently unaccounted for when she was attacked at the hospital.”

“Okay, do I have to take this from shitty Sam Elliot over here, or what?”

“Rule number two.” Sam slowly looked from Richie back to Dewey. “The killer’s motive,” he was still glaring at Richie as he spoke. “Is always connected to something in the past.”

“I’m related to Billy,” Sam said. She already knew Tara was most likely attacked because of her; she knew even before Ghostface said he knew her secret; she knew the moment Wes said Tara was attacked by someone in a Ghostface mask. Hearing Dewey practically confirm it though wasn’t easy, Tara was basically attacked all because Sam was the daughter of a serial killer.

“Right,” Richie said, nodding along. “But then why kill that random Vince guy?”

Sam nodded at that; Vince seemed like a random victim. Tara was the first victim, then she herself was attacked at the hospital but it didn’t seem like Ghostface actually wanted to kill her, more like just scare her. You and Tara’s friends were all at that bar, you worked at the bar, you had been outside seconds after Vince was attacked, meaning Ghostface wanted Vince for some reason, no one else.

“That’s for you to figure out,” Dewey said. “And rule number three, and this is the most important rule.” Sam turned in her seat so she could give Dewey her full attention. “The first victim always has a friend group, that the killer is apart of.” Sam nodded along, she remembered that being a theme in all the movies from the one time she saw them, and hearing about the real-life stories. “Does your sister have a closeknit group of friends?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding, Tara had exactly that. “She does.”

“Then look for the killer there.”

She knew Dewey’s logic; she knew from his experience that this was always how it went down. Sam couldn’t imagine it though; she couldn’t picture any of Tara’s friends attacking her. Tara knew all of her friends since she was a little kid, Sam baby sat all of them, they literally grew up together, Sam watched them grow up. The only person who was new to the group, or she guessed more so, new to Tara’s life, was you.

“If you can find out why they’re doing this,” Dewey continued. “You can figure out who’s next.” That made sense as well; despite never understanding why someone would dress up and kill all their friends, the killer always had some sort of twisted motive and that motive tended to explain who their victims were and would be.

“So, help us,” Sam tried pleading. She knew it was a long shot. Dewey hadn’t even wanted to let them in his trailer to talk, the odds of him agreeing to get involved were zero to none. “Help us figure out who’s behind this.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Dewey sighed, sounding more exhausted than he had since opening the door. “I’ve been stabbed nine times, I’ve got permanent nerve damage, and a fun little limp. You think I want to do that again?” he let out a humorless chuckle.

“You just said it always goes back to the past.” Sam still intended to try her hardest to convince Dewey to help, she didn’t think she could figure this out on her own, she needed help. “Right?” Dewey reluctantly nodded, seeming to know where she was about to go with this. “So, if I’m in danger, that means you’re in danger.” Dewey seemed to take in her words as he was suddenly unable to meet her gaze. “Come on, let’s do this, together.”

There was a split second that it almost seemed like Dewey was going to agree to help them. “Your time’s up,” he said instead. He quickly stood up, walking to his door and holding it open for them.

Sam rolled her eyes as she pushed herself off the couch and stomped out of the trailer, Richie following close behind her. As soon as they were out the door Dewey slammed the door closed. Sam couldn’t blame him for not wanting to get involved, it was insane for someone to willingly get involved in this mess, she had just told Richie that before coming to see Dewey. That didn’t mean she wasn’t still annoyed that Dewey wouldn’t help them. She figured out of everyone else in the world the person most likely to help would be someone who had survived what they’re going through now, Dewey knew quite literally what they were going through, and he still refused to help.

“Okay, what’s next?” Richie asked as they made their way back to the car.

“The friends,” Sam said, easily catching the keys as Richie tossed them to her. She didn’t want to suspect Tara’s friends, but they were the only ones that made sense.

Before starting the car, she shot a quick text to Wes, asking him to gather the others. Wes quickly texted back saying he’d do it. Sam sat there for a few minutes when another text from Wes came through. Wes had said the others all agreed to meet at Mindy and Chad’s, since they were the niece and nephew of one of the victims of the second killings it made sense to meet at their house. Sam started the car and quickly pulled out of the trailer park, not carrying if she was speeding on her way to Mindy and Chad’s.

Sam pulled into Mindy and Chad’s driveway, seeing a few more cars there as well. As they were walking up to the door Sam heard another car door closing. She turned around and couldn’t help but smile when she saw Dewey walking up to them.

“You came,” she said when he was close enough. She truly thought he wasn’t going to help them, that she was completely on her own in trying to figure this out.

“Let’s get this over with,” Dewey sighed, leading the way to the door.

Mindy opened the door, leading them to the family room and telling them the others were already there. Sam had only been in the Meeks-Martin household a handful of times when babysitting the twins, but it hadn’t seemed to change much over the years.

Sam stood in front of the others, she had just opened her mouth, ready to tell them that she was the daughter of Billy Loomis, when there was a knock at the door. Martha Meeks quickly ran to the door, happily greeting whoever it was. Sam glanced back and had to do a double take when she saw you walking into the room.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. She asked them to gather everyone, she didn’t realize that meant you as well. She was honestly surprised you left Tara’s side for something like this, considering you refused to go to work until Tara basically ordered you to.

“Tara asked me to come,” you said. Sam let out a hum, now that made sense. She wondered how much convincing it took to get you to leave Tara’s side. “You all have exactly one hour,” you pulled out your phone, quickly typing off a text to someone. “So, let’s get this over with.” You pushed past Sam and took a seat on the far end of the couch, putting yourself as far away from everyone else as you could get.

“Why are you here?” Dewey asked. He squinted his eyes, watching you carefully even though you hadn’t so much as glanced at him.

“Tara’s my girlfriend,” you said. “Going to arrest me for that? Sheriff,” you made sure to say that last part with all the sarcasm.

Dewey narrowed his eyes at you. “How long have you been together?”

You rolled your eyes, clearly not enjoying yet another person questioning your relationship. Sam would bet money that it also didn’t help that the one questioning your relationship is the cop who used to always deal with you.

“It will be two years in December,” you sighed, obviously getting more irritated. “Can we move this along, please,” you looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes. “I would like to get back to Tara.”

Sam nodded, she didn’t want to shift the attention back to herself but you and Dewey arguing wouldn’t get them anywhere, especially if you ended up storming out before they even got started. “Alright,” Sam said nervously. She glanced back to see Richie giving her an encouraging smile. “I’m the daughter of Billy Loomis.”

Everyone’s mouths fell open. Sam could practically see their brains trying to process the information. Sam quickly ran to take her seat on the couch, not wanting to be the center of attention anymore. She spared a glance at you, seeing you weren’t shocked, she figured you overheard her conversation with Tara or Tara told you herself. Your jaw was clenched as you stared off across the room, your hands balled into fists, and you refused to look at Sam.

Mindy was the first to break out of her shock by instantly jumping to her feet and running to the closet they had filled with movies. Sam furrowed her brow as she watched Mindy shuffle around the movies, until finally finding what she was looking for and popping it into the DVD player. Sam suppressed a sigh when she saw it wasn’t Stab Mindy had put on but Stab: The True Story. It was basically a documentary of the true story, though no one who actually survived what happened was involved in the making of it or was interviewed. Sam was pretty sure Gale Weathers was involved in some way, but the documentary was mostly made up of pictures and found footage, with a ‘expert’ who had done their research and talked about what happened.

“So, you’re saying that you’re the daughter of Billy Loomis,” Chad said, being the first to break the silence. “And that, what, one of us is the killer?” he gestured at himself and his friends.

“The killer told me he knew my secret,” Sam said. It was clear Chad didn’t appreciate him and his friends being accused of being a killer but based on the history, it was always someone in the friend group. “He attacked Tara to lure me back here.” Sam caught you clenching your fists tighter as her words, she assumed you had already figured that part out as well.

“But then why immediately go and murder some douche-nozzle that was stalking Liv?”

“And why does it have to be one of us?” Wes asked. “What about deputy Dewey here? Maybe he’s the killer.” Wes shrugged. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Dewey said. “But what’s my motive?”

“You got stabbed a billion times, got dumped by your famous wife, and crawled into a bottle,” Wes listed off. “I think it’s safe to say you’re on the suspect list.”

Sam let out a small sigh, she had gone to Dewey for help but what Wes said made sense. As hard for her as it was to admit it still seemed one of the friends was more likely involved than Dewey. Wes’s argument was good but Dewey suddenly snapping after all these years and going after some random kids didn’t make much sense.

“Well, maybe you’re the killer,” Dewey said. “Cause that cut deep.”

“That douche-nozzle is connected,” Amber said. “I googled him. His mom is Leslie Macher. Stu Macher’s sister.”

“Who’s Stu Macher?” Liv asked.

“He’s Billy Loomis’s accomplice,” Dewey answered, leaning forward in his seat again.

“Okay, okay,” Sam said, nodding along, everything was finally starting to make sense. “So, the first three attacks are all on people related to the original killers.”

“Oh my god,” Mindy said, shooting up from her seat. “He’s making a requel.”

Everyone looked at Mindy like she had grown two head. “A what?” Sam decided to be the one to ask.

“Like a sequel, fans are confused or torn on the terminology.”

“God,” Chad sighed. “Please speak English.” Sam couldn’t help but agree, she understood what a sequel was, but she had no idea what the hell a requel was or what the hell Mindy was talking about.

“Okay,” Mindy sighed, sitting up straight as she got serious about this topic. “Do you remember the Stab movie that came out last year?”

“Oh, yeah, the one the Knives Out guy directed,” Liv said, seeming to know exactly what Mindy was talking about. Sam was still lost but decided to just wait and see where they were going with this. “You know, I actually really liked that one.”

“Of course you did, you have terrible taste.” Sam rolled her eyes as Liv and Mindy had their little argument, even when she was a kid Mindy the habit of being a bit of a movie snob. “The point is the hardcore Stab fans hated it.”

Sam sighed, beginning to tune Mindy out as she rambled on and on about why the fans hated the movie. She didn’t really care about a shitty sequel to a relatively basic franchise. She was hoping Mindy actually had a point to all this and her random movie knowledge about Stab would actually be useful.

“What’s wrong with elevated horror?” Amber asked, joining in on the conversation.

Mindy then went on to rant about how elevated horror was great, but it wasn’t Stab. The only reason Sam had some semblance of an idea as to what elevated horror was because even as a kid Tara loved that stuff. As Mindy said, Stab was a typical slasher whodunit type of movie, Stab wasn’t elevated horror.

“Come on, it’s just a movie,” Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. She had to speak up, she couldn’t stand listening to them argue about movies and their deeper meaning, they were just movies, they were in the real world where her sister was really attacked.

“No, it’s not,” Mindy said instantly. “To some people the original is their favorite thing in the world.” Sam couldn’t wrap her head around that, she got liking movies, but not loving one so much someone would begin to blur a movie with real life. “The movie that made them love horror. The movie that mom or dad showed them when they were ten and bonded them together.” Once again, Sam got that, she understood bonding with someone over a movie and both enjoying that. “And god help anyone who fucks with that special memory, who makes a movie that disrespects it.”

Sam could sort of understand that as well. She truly understood loving a movie growing up and then a few years later someone deciding to cash in on that love by making a sequel or spin-off or something involving those characters and that world. It rarely worked out, it was usually made as a cash grab and not for the fans, then the new fans had a habit of hating it. Being pissed about a bunch of shitty sequel movies to your childhood favorite didn’t give someone the right to go around dressed up like the killer from the movies. That’s where Mindy was losing Sam. Sam didn’t get how someone could take a simple movie so far.

“It sounds like,” Mindy continued, getting up from her seat before Sam could even think about interrupting her again. “Our killer is writing his own version of Stab Eight but doing it as a requel.” Mindy raised her hands, nodding to herself, clearly proud of her theory.

Sam would admit, it was a good theory, that didn’t answer her original question though. “Which is?” Dewey asked. Sam was glad he still didn’t get it; she didn’t want to ask Mindy again.

Mindy sighed, clapping her hands together as she tried to contain her clear irritation at them not getting it. “See, you can’t just reboot a franchise from scratch anymore, the fans won’t stand for it. Black Christmas, Childs Play, Flatliners,” she began gesturing around the room at her friends. “That shit doesn’t work! But you can’t just do a straight sequel either. You got to build something new but not too new or the internet goes bug fucking nuts,” she rolled her eyes.

“It’s got to be a part of an ongoing storyline, even if the storyline shouldn’t have been ongoing in the first place. New main characters, yes,” she gestured around the room as if all of them were the new main characters. “But supported by and related to legacy characters,” she pointed at Dewey. “Not quite a reboot, not quite a sequel. Like, the new Halloween, Saw, Terminator, Jurassic Park, Ghostbusters, fuck, even Star Wars! It always, always, goes back to the original,” she picked up the first Stab movie to help emphasize what she meant.

Sam was beginning to fully understand what Mindy was trying to say. “Are you telling me,” Sam started. “That I’m caught in the middle of fan fucking fiction?” she couldn’t believe this, it was even more insane than she ever imagined. She figured someone was pissed because she was Billy’s daughter not because they were hurt that the sequel to their favorite movie was total garbage.

“Not just in the middle Sam,” Mindy said, a lot calmer than she had been than when she was rambling about the movies. “You’re the star.” Sam could only stare at Mindy, her mouth slightly agape. She knew she was the reason Tara was attacked but she didn’t think she was the reason all this was happening.

“So, not to put like to fine a point on it,” Liv said. “But according to requel rules, who’s next?” Sam looked at Liv, her eyes coasting across everyone else. She wanted to figure out who the killer was but knowing who the next victim might be was just as important.

“Going by the pattern,” Mindy said slowly. “Whoever it is has to be connected to someone that came before.”

They all slowly turned to look at Dewey, he was the only one connected to the original killings. “I’m starting to regret coming,” Dewey said. Sam knew she told Dewey he was probably a target as well, but she didn’t realize how true her words might have been.

“Jesus, my mom is a character in one of them,” Wes said, sitting up a little straighter.

“No one cares about the shitty inferior sequels Wes,” Minday said with an eyeroll. “You’re safe.” She turned her attention to her brother. “With Randy as our uncle though, you and I are probably screwed.

“Wait, what?” Chad asked. Despite literally being Mindy’s twin, he didn’t share the same passion for horror and movies that she did. It seemed as though he didn’t realize that being the nephew of one of the only survivors of the original attacks put a target on his back.

“Or you’re the killer,” Richie began, laughing Mindy’s theories off. “And this whole elaborate monologue is just to cover your tracks.

“I think it’s pretty clear who the killer is at this point,” Mindy said, laughing off Richie’s accusation.

“Who?” Sam asked. She was staring at Mindy, she had no idea who the killer could be, she didn’t know how Mindy could figure it out so quickly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Amber said, interrupting whatever Mindy was about to say. Everyone looked at Amber, but her glare was solely focused on you.

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. You didn’t seem happy that you were being accused but you certainly didn’t seem surprised. “Are you serious? What’s my motive?” you shrugged.

Amber shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re dating Tara.”

“Never trust the love interest,” Mindy mumbled.

You snapped your gaze from Amber to Mindy, you actually seemed hurt that she was agreeing with Amber. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” you gestured, looking around the room. Sam did the same, seeing everyone staying silent, all of them either looking at the floor or at you like you were the prime suspect, the only one who looked the slightest bit guilty was Liv, she refused to look at you, opting to keep her eyes on the floor.

“If I can’t have her, no one will,” Amber said. “Classic motive.”

“The thing is,” you leaned forward, glaring back at Amber just as intently. “I already have her.” Despite Sam’s feelings on you she had to side with you there, you were already dating Tara, had been for a while now. There was no reason for you to attack Tara, there was no one for you to be jealous of and this wasn’t some twisted version of unrequited love.

“Maybe you’re threatened.”

“By who? You?” you scoffed, literally laughing at the idea of being threatened by Amber “Please! As if.”

“Tara knows you’re not good enough.” Amber smirked, her eyes taking on a dangerous look. Sam had no idea what happened to warrant the animosity between you and Amber, but it was very clear where Amber stood regarding you.

“That’s not true.” You shook your head, but Sam could swear she caught a glimmer of doubt in your eye. She didn’t think you necessarily believe Amber’s words but there was probably a part of you that truly didn’t think you were good enough for Tara, that she deserved better than anything you could offer her.

“What could you possibly offer her?”

“You’re trying to get me to doubt my relationship,” you kept your voice low as you pointed at Amber. “I don’t know why,” you shook your head. “It won’t work though. Tara’s love is the one thing I have never doubted.” Sam hated to admit it, but she admired your devotion to Tara and your commitment to each other.

“Why are you still here?” Amber continued to poke. “You always talk about how much you hate this place, you literally despise this town.” Amber leaned forward, staring right into your eyes. So why are you still here?”

“For Tara!” you shot to your feet. “I stayed for her,” your voice cracked. Everyone got silent, all of them dropping their eyes to the floor, except for Amber; Sam seemed to be the only other one willing to still look at you.

“I was actually going to say Sam was the prime suspect,” Mindy was the first to speak up. Sam’s eyes widened; her mouth dropped open as she stared at Mindy. “Daughter of the original mastermind,” Mindy looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes. “It makes sense,” she shrugged.

“But you,” she shifted her gaze to you. “You have nothing and no one, your parents abandoned you, you were a troubled teen, hated this small town, until magically you got your shit together, turning your life around, then began dating Tara, who just happens to be Sam’s sister. You knew Sam before, no?” you only acknowledged her with a glare. “The perfect suspect, one that’s seemingly unsuspecting.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. Sam watched as you looked around the room, seeing how no one argued with Amber’s accusation or Mindy’s logic. “Fuck you,” you spit out before storming out of the house, making sure to slam the door behind you.

“Yeah, because that doesn’t scream guilty,” Amber mumbled under her breath. “Well, this has been fun.” Amber stood up from her seat.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

Amber rolled her eyes. “Home. Unless you want to accuse anymore of us?” Amber gestured around before making her way out of the house without a goodbye.

Wes was the next to go but unlike Amber he actually gave a short goodbye to everyone before quickly running out the door. Last was Liv, she gave Chas a quick kiss, saying something about having to go to work and then she left as well.

Sam sighed, figuring it was time they left as well, she didn’t want to overstay her welcome after basically accusing the entire friend group of murder and after sort of being accused by Mindy. “Well, that went well,” Sam said, as she, Richie, and Dewey stepped outside.

Dewey gave a small shrug. “Now, what’s your plan?” Dewey asked.

“Hopefully food,” Richie mumbled.

Sam ran a hand through her hair. Gathering everyone together had been simultaneously useful and not. They now had a theory on what the killer was doing, they knew his victims were those related to legacy characters, but they still weren’t any closer to knowing who the killer was.

“I need to get back to the hospital,” Sam sighed. Even if Tara didn’t want to talk to her, she needed to try. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Tara alone in the hospital too long, especially overnight, even if that meant sleeping in a chair outside her room or in the waiting room.

“I was hoping for something besides hospital food,” Richie groaned.

Sam sighed, she really didn’t want to waste time going to get food. “I can give you a ride to the hospital,” Dewey offered.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

Dewey nodded. “Yeah, it’ll give me the chance to ask some questions anyway.”

Sam tossed her keys to Richie. Richie didn’t waste time, giving Sam a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off towards the car. Richie had started and pulled away before Sam and Dewey had even started walking to Dewey’s truck.

“A text!” someone yelled, stopping Dewey in his tracks as he started to walk towards his truck. Dewey turned around and Sam peered over his shoulder seeing a woman in a colorful business suit approaching him. “You let me know in a text!” she continued, walking right up to Dewey and slapping him.

“You were on air,” Dewey weakly defended. That’s when Sam realized who this was, Gale Weathers.

“How do you know that?”

Dewey opened his mouth, then suddenly paused. It seemed like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit he still watched his ex-wife’s morning show. Sam couldn’t fault him for that it was either really sweet or really depressing, she was starting to think maybe a bit of both.

“How did you find me?” Dewey settled on, crossing his arms.

“I tracked your phone,” Gale said without shame.

“You tracked my-are you insane?”

Gale rolled her eyes. “I needed to find you and it was the quickest way,” she shrugged. “Who’s this?” Gale turned to Sam, seeming to finally notice her for the first time.

“Sam Carpenter,” Sam introduced herself. “My sister was attacked.

Gale tilted her head, her eyes instantly softening with sympathy. “I’m sorry. Do we know anything yet? What about the second victim?”

“Vince Schnieder,” Dewey said. “He’s Stu Macher’s nephew.”

“He attacked my sister because I’m Billy Loomis’s daughter,” Sam added. Gale’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head at hearing this information. Sam hated the fact that she was getting used to revealing that information. “Somehow the killer knows and now he’s going after those related to the original killings.”

“What did you just say?” Gale whispered, her eyes taking on what Sam could only describe as a look of fear.

Sam couldn’t blame her for being scared, Gale probably didn’t come back to town and expect to be even more in danger. “This psycho seems to be obsessed with the original movie and so disappointed in the ones that have followed, he’s decided to make his own,” Sam rolled her eyes. She still thought it was ridiculous someone was doing all this because of a movie.

“She’s related to Billy,” Dewey said, pointing at Sam. “So, he went after her sister. Then Stu’s nephew,” he shook his head. “He’s going after anyone related to the legacy characters, anyone related to us.”

Sam watched curiously as Gale pulled out her phone, furrowing her brow at whoever was calling her. Sam couldn’t make out who it was before Gale declined the call. Not a second later her phone buzzing again. Gale once again declined the call, rolling her eyes.

Gale let out a frustrated sigh when her phone vibrated again, but this time it didn’t seem to be a phone call. Gale furrowed her brow as she tapped her phone. She furrowed her brow as she stared down at the screen, then her eyes quickly widened as if she realized something. “Oh, god,” Gale whispered.

“What is it?” Dewey asked.

“Oh god, oh god,” Gale continued to whisper under her breath. She quickly typed on her phone, dialing a number. Sam furrowed her brow; she had a feeling she didn’t want to know who had been trying to call Gale and what they sent her. “Dammit!” Gale screamed at her phone when whoever she was calling didn’t answer.

“What? What’s going on?”

“We need to go.”

“What? Where?”

Gale ignored Dewey’s questions as she dialed 911. Sam’s eyes widened; she didn’t know what was happening but clearly it wasn’t good. Gale began speaking quickly, rattling off an address Sam didn’t recognize it seemed as soon as someone answered. “Yes, it’s an emergency!” Gale yelled into the phone. “Tell the sheriff it’s about Ghostface! The next victim is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Sam’s eyes widened at hearing your name. “We need to go,” Gale said. “Now!” Dewey seemed just as confused as Sam felt but he didn’t question it as he took off towards his truck, Gale right behind him. Sam followed their lead, running off after them. She jumped in the backseat, just barely getting the door closed before Dewey took off, his wheels squealing against the pavement. Sam gripped the sides of the front seat, staring out the windshield, silently hoping they’d get to you in time.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream v #scream 5 #a legacies secret #sam carpenter

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now.

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring.

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see.

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry.

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome, “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he’s sure this is what he looked like when he’d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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iuspired · 4 months

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confessions - suna rintarou

about: DEFINITELY ooc but we don’t talk about that 😙 just you nd ur bsf sunarin catching up as per usual with tea to spill from the past 😝 we love to see it!

a/n: i wrote this awhile ago actually🫣 im fully done w finals………. idk what to think im so scared for the future. also trying diff formats and will actually work on my navi post during the summer so bare w me lol. anyways thank u for all the love on my last post mwahhh <3

“you know i used to have a crush on you?” you say, in between bites of your food.

you and your childhood best friend, suna rintarou, are at your promised monthly hangout, which ended up only being every couple months because your universities were far away from each other, so you both settled to meet up whenever your breaks overlapped. but it didn’t matter to you either way because you texted each other almost every other day. whether it was a tiktok link or an 8 ball.

“you used to what?” he replies, mouth agape as he sets his chopsticks down.

“i mean, it wasn’t a huge crush,” you say, … “maybe i was gaslighting myself but we were really close back then y’know?”

“oh? why didn’t you ask me out then?”

“mmm not sure. i guess..” you think about it. it was probably because starting high school, girls were all over him. it was also probably because those same girls would come up to you. passive aggressively ask if you were his girlfriend. you’d reply with a lighthearted laugh, “noo! we’re just close friends. he’s all yours if you want him.” maybe it was because he wouldn’t reciprocate any of the interest and love he received. he always replied, saying something along the lines of ‘oh i’m focusing on school” or just a simple, “i’m not interested”

it was mostly though, because you thought he’d reject you if you initiated something. and not wanting to ruin the relationship you had already built throughout the years, you suppress your feelings.

“you guess?”

“fear of rejection?” you laugh nervously.

“you think i would’ve rejected you?” he asks. he tilts his head, raising his eyebrows, giving you a look as if you were supposed to know.

“you had no interest for anyone so… i mean. i-” you stammer. fuck, why did i even bring this up?!

“well, believe it or not, i too, had a crush on my bestfriend.”

and just like that, you almost spit out your drink. “sorry, you- you liked me?”

“and that’s so surprising because?” he questions.

he really cannot wrap his head around this, huh. “you turned everyone and their mother down? mr. i’m too focused on school and i’m not interested? i could only assume that i was not wanted.”

“but did i ever directly say that to you?”

“no, but you wouldn’t need to. i listened when you rejected their advances, i can take a hint y’know.”

he sighed. “if you had asked me out back then, my answer would be different.”

“really?” you ask.

“really.”

you raise your eyebrows as you sip your drink.

“don’t believe me? you can try me now.” he smirks, flashing the smile you had fallen for back then, and you almost fold right then and there. though despite his confident demeanor, the slight rosy tint on his cheeks gives his nervousness away.

“oh? it’s almost as if you want me to ask you out.”

he playfully rolls his eyes. “okay, so maybe i do, but only if you want to..”

you do your best to suppress a smile as your cheeks turn into the same rosy color.

“here goes. ahem.. i uh-” your mind goes blank.

“wait so.. how do you ask someone out?”

“well, i’ve never asked someone out before because they always ask me” he winks.

you playfully roll your eyes.

“don’t overthink it. it’s just me right?”

you almost forgot. it’s just rin. the same rin who’s always there for you. but this is different.

“right.. i say this in almost all your birthday cards but you’re truly my rock in life, and i reaally want to be yours, and maybe more so.. may i be your girlfriend, suna rintarou?”

“well, if you insist i guess,” he shrugs.

“wooooww.. i see how it is” you say, crossing your arms teasingly.

“r-rin..” he catches you off-guard as he takes your hand in his.

“yeess?” he grins.

you remove your hands, immediately missing the warmth from his hands.

“first date jitters?” he chuckles.

“this is our first date?”

“technically, i guess, but-“

“no way this is our official first date. i’m wearing sweats!” you exclaim, looking down at what you’re wearing.

“i don’t see an issue, you always look pretty in anything you wear.”

“th- thanks,” you blurt out. well that’s new.

but it’s something you could deeefinitely get used to.

#suna rintaro x y/n #suna drabble #suna rintaro fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #suna fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #can u tell i love him

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spngi · 2 months

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My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3| Part 4

part 5

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.

---

It’s the first morning I truly wake up happy after a long time. I feel ready for a new beginning when I wake up embraced by Carlos’s body. It’s perfect to share the little things with him, his presence filling me with joy.

I watch him through the door; he’s on the phone now, and Paco is jumping on his legs, begging for attention.

We were having coffee outside, enjoying each other’s company, when his phone rang. Things are not like they used to be; we still have a long way to go to regain each other’s trust, but we are happy with the small steps we are taking.

The conversation my husband is having doesn’t seem good. He looks tense, defensive, and even without hearing his conversation, I can tell it’s a serious matter. He is standing in the middle of the room, phone in hand, head down, his abdomen bare, and wearing sweatpants. Every domestic scene warms my heart more, like him making pancakes for breakfast earlier or the large bouquet of peonies that miraculously appeared this morning.

I knew that just these gestures wouldn’t erase the pain Carlos and I had caused each other, but they were a good way to start this new journey.

I see him hang up the phone in a single, explosive gesture. He takes a breath while putting the device in his pocket.

“What’s your problem?” His voice echoes coldly in the room. I don’t understand who he is referring to or why he’s looking at me that way.

“What are you talking about?” I ask him, still confused as I approach his tense figure. The contrast with the relaxed figure he had before the phone call is clear. “What happened?”

“I tell you I love Martina, and you try to kill her? Is this how you want to move forward?” He explodes, his tone loud and desperate.

“What are you talking about? You think I tried to kill that girl? Are you out of your mind?” I ask him, my words stinging. Carlos looks at me as if I were a monster, and it hurts to be his first suspect. It hurts to know he thinks so poorly of me.

“What a great coincidence, isn’t it? I tell you how I feel about her, and today someone hits her car and flees.” He points at me as if he’s about to warn me. “You’re lucky she’s still alive.”

“Does it not occur to you that it could have been just a drunk idiot? Do you think so poorly of me that you believe I’d do something like that?” I exclaim, anger exploding from my body. That bitch had to ruin my life without me even doing anything to her.

“You lost the benefit of the doubt when you decided to killed those men.”

A car accident? I wouldn’t even have thought of that, and I had thought of many ways to get rid of the girl, but none involving her death—only involving putting a package with absurd amounts of drugs in her car and house, along with a call to the police.

Carlos’s words drive me crazy. I feel insane for hearing them because it can’t be true. His eyes look at me with disgust, as if I were a murderer.

“I don’t know how serious the accident was, but if I were you, I’d pray for her to be okay. It would prevent you from finally becoming a monster,” he says, and Paco runs away scared by the shouting.

I don’t think much after what I hear; my body is overtaken by rage, and I can only remember all the times Charles taught me to aim and shoot. That’s what I think about when I grab the closest object to me, a crystal vase, and throw it at Carlos.

The crystal shatters upon hitting the top of his head in small pieces. The noise is loud, and the whole house goes on alert before returning to its routine upon seeing the scene.

“Are you crazy?” He yells in shock, with glass shards all over the place, including in his hair, and small drops of blood running down his forehead.

“Maybe, but I’m not a murderer,” I say through clenched teeth. “Believe me, if I wanted her dead, there wouldn’t be any pieces of the car left to tell the tale, but I would never dirty my hands with someone as insignificant as her.”

The room turns into a chaos of shouting and arguing. Even though I love Carlos, I’m almost ready to throw another vase at him. I decide to stop arguing with him; it wouldn’t help when he’s so blinded by believing I would do such a thing. I turn around, leaving him to argue alone, and head back outside.

“You should leave, Carlos… I can’t stand looking at your face right now,” I say finally before leaving. “And don’t you dare ask anyone to clean up the mess you made,” I point to the floor and walk out.

I sit in a chair, not allowing myself to cry this time. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I spent a day without crying, so I forbid myself from doing it today! The scene that just occurred felt like it nailed the final stake into our marriage. There was no more unity, no more fidelity, respect, or love.

I couldn’t love for both of us alone, not when it was destroying me. When it was already destroying me.

“Your foot is bleeding,” I hear a voice pull me out of my thoughts, and when I look up, I see Charles.

“Oh,” I have no reaction. I look down and see the small pool of blood forming underneath the injured foot I hadn’t noticed before. “I must have stepped on one of the glass shards. I’ll take care of it…”

I try to reassure him and spare him from my melancholic company.

“Let me take care of it for you; just wait here, please,” he smiles, looking tense, possibly having witnessed the situation.

Just as I didn’t notice him leave, I didn’t notice him come back, this time with a first aid kit in hand. He kneels in front of me and gently takes my left foot.

“I can do this, Charles. Thank you,” I thank him and try to get rid of his presence.

“No, no, I insist,” he smiles worriedly, his eyes on me. There’s something there I can’t decipher; it’s not pity, but definitely something shining.

He opens the significantly large first aid kit that is necessary when someone with a gunshot or knife wound shows up at the house from time to time.

“Do you need anesthetic?” he asks, laughing.

“Although I would love to be high right now, it won’t be necessary,” I say, and he laughs lightly.

He pulls the glass shard out in one precise, smooth movement, and I watch as he cleans the wound with cotton and alcohol.

“To save you the trouble of investigating the accident… I didn’t do it,” I say to Charles.

“I know,” he replies, not bothering to look up at me, appearing certain of his opinion. “And I think if Carlos had a bit more reason and faith in you, he’d know that.”

It’s funny to watch him work with such calm and gentleness on a simple injury, contrasting sharply with all the memories of when he taught me to shoot and defend myself months ago.

“I didn’t teach you to do a job halfway and to leave traces. I have faith that you were a good student.” He looks up and smiles. Charles is the same age as me, but the difference between us is apparent. He’s lived and witnessed many things to be where he is now and still tries to be as gentle as possible in my company.

“Thank you,” I say, watching him as he wraps my foot with a bandage. It’s large and silly for the size of the cut, but the gesture enchants me.

I let my eyes wander away, to the garden or beyond it, my thoughts drifting. I don’t want to cry, not for Carlos. Just thinking about his name makes me sick, and I wonder why I did all this. Why did I sacrifice so much of my life for him? Why did I fight so hard for this marriage when it was destroying me?

It’s ironic how life presents things to us. Throughout my life, I’ve always loved art, preferring romantic ideals and works that depicted routine and brought peace. Now my life would be painted in a dark and melancholic canvas.

“If you could choose to be anything, what would you be?” I ask Charles, who is still kneeling in front of me, his hand gently touching my injured foot.

“What do you mean?” His green eyes look confused.

“I would have my own art gallery, or rather, I think I would like to work in a museum…” I let my mind wander, to what I could be if I weren’t here.

“In which museum?” he asks.

“In Washington,” I reply without thinking. “I think there cuz my favorite art is there, a beautiful Monet. I would be the happiest person to see it every day,” I smile at the scene in my mind, a genuine smile. “And you?”

“I think I would be a Formula 1 driver,” he laughs. “My childhood dream was to drive the red car around the world.”

“In another universe, I’m sure we’re doing that,” I smile at him, laughing. It’s silly to think about it, but it helps me calm down. “Please sit down.”

He closes the first aid kit and sets it aside, then sits in the chair next to me. He seems awkward or even embarrassed to do so.

“I don’t want to get divorced, Charles,” I murmur, scratching my forehead. I thought I would have more strength for this, that I wouldn’t give up so easily.

“He will find out it wasn’t you eventually” he murmurs.

“The problem isn’t the accident, or even Carlos. He isn’t that desperate about the divorce, and if he were, he would file for litigation” I sigh. “She wants the divorce; I just took a while to realize it… Carlos getting divorced is just a red flag for all his business, and it will make his life much more difficult… I just don’t know if I can handle it anymore.”

“Y/n…” the man calls me, then says, “You are the strongest woman I have ever known. You’ve been through so much and endured it as if it were just another normal day at work. You handle all the problems better than anyone here among us. You could be Carlos, but he could never be you.”

It’s the first time in a long while that a man makes me cry with joy.

One more part! I hope you guys are enjoying it!

Leave your comments and opinions ❤️

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #cs55 #cs55 x reader #angst #carlos sainz au #f1 fic #máfia!carlos sainz #mafia!f1 #mob!carlos sainz

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vvinirl · 3 months

Text

satoru. g

warnings: smut, missionary, pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart) name calling from gojo and reader (crybaby,shorty,dumbass) oral (fem receiving), spitting, praising, slight crying during sex, love bombing (i got in my feels towards the end okay 😔) curses don’t exist

word count: 4.3k (tired smth new ;))

not proofread

would you say that it was a blessing having your older brother’s best friend satoru gojo around, or a curse?

if it was a blessing, there would only be a few things you could list that would make it a blessing

-you’ve known him since you were practically in diapers

-he’s always around

-he’s the hottest guy you’ve ever seen

-he actually talks to you

-and he’s a older guy

those are what some would call a blessing

if it was a curse, there would only be one thing you could list that would make it a curse

-you can’t have him

and not only because he’s your older brother’s best friend and if you and satoru were to get together it would ruin their friendship, but because you just can’t

or you don’t think you could. you don’t think that satoru has ever thought about you in ways you’ve thought about him. you don’t think you’re his type, and you definitely definitely don’t think he would ever be interested in you

the only reason you think about those thoughts are because satoru always has girls lined up in front of him, willing to give up everything in their life just to spend a day with him. everyone adores him and worshiped him, who wouldn’t?

and he was crazy rich and was already the ceo of of his family company and the youngest rich bachelor in the country

but despite all satoru had and could have, he chose to stay single

why? nobody knows

and he also chose to stay around his best friend suguru and even you

you don’t know why he chose you guys, he could have any friends he wanted, hundreds if he chose but no

you don’t know when or how your little crush on satoru started but if you had to say, it would definitely be that summer, before the start of 6th grade

you were going to the 6th grade and suguru and satoru were going to the 8th

you were at the park playing and minding your business. in your cute little baby blue dress with daisies on them and a big white bow sewn into the back. you could say it was your favorite dress

these 3 older boys, probably grade 9, walked up to you and started throwing mean comments at you

“look at her hair, ew”

“her ugly dress too”

“does she think she’s cute?”

you didn’t cared what they said but one comment really stuck out to you

“why does she look like that”

some would say you were a crybaby, and they are definitely right. you were a sensitive child, still is

“leave me alone” you stood up, grabbing your babydoll and held it by your side

“or what?”

“you gonna cry to your big bro geto?”

one of the laughed and walked closer to you

“i-i said leave me alone” tears welling up in your eyes, looking down at your black sandals, the sandy beneath your feet

one of the boys pushed you back as you fell back onto your elbows and into the sand

“oh so you think you’re tuff now huh-“

the boy didn’t finish his sentence as satoru came out of nowhere and landed a punch on his jaw

“what the hell!” one of the boys yelled towards satoru, kneeling down to inspect his friend’s bleeding nose

“do you want a matching bloody nose too?” satoru stepped up to them

“n-no, let’s get out of here guys”

“he’s fricking crazy man”

the boys got their friend with the bloody nose off the ground and ran away

you were sitting there the whole time watching everything unfold before your eyes, still in the same position in the sand that the boy pushed you to

“are you okay?”

you looked up at satoru, his hand extended for you to take. you nodded, taking his hand as he brought you up

“are you hurt anywhere?”

“no, i’m okay” you sniffled, looking down at your dress to see it had gotten a little dirty

satoru reached a hand up to your face and wiped your tears stained cheek with his sleeve

you looked up at him, bright blue eyes staring into your dark and brown ones. the summer sunlight reflecting off his milky pale skin

“don’t let them treat you like that okay?”

“y-yeah” you nodded once more, still lost in those eyes

“if they ever come back again, i’ll leave them with more than a bloody nose”

“but you might get in trouble gojo”

“i don’t care. you shouldn’t have to deal with their bullshit, got that?”

“mhm”

“now come on crybaby, your brother and parents are waiting for you” satoru dusted your dress of and wrapped an arm around your shoulders

“and i said to call me satoru”

“right, yeah of course gojo-“

“i mean satoru!” you quickly corrected yourself, feeling slightly embarrassed. gojo laughed at you as he shook his head

“dumbass”

“am not”

“are too”

the both of you bickered back and forth, as you walked back to your house, his arms still around your shoulders

but i guess you could that was the day you began to slowly fall in love with satoru more and more as the years went on

there was times when you fell harder for him, one including your 9th grade school dance

a guy in a older grade had asked you out to the dance so you decide to take on the opportunity to go with him

you got all dress up in this beautiful red dress your mom bought from you, she said she wore that very dress the night she met your father back in the same grade you were in right now

it fit you so nicely and your mom did your hair and you got all dolled up for that dance

at the dance you waited and waited for your date to show up but not surprisingly, he didn’t

you saw having a time with another girl on the dance floor as you stood by the punch bowl

you thought that maybe he hadn’t seen you and was looking for you and that girl was just one of his friends, but the universe must’ve have hated you that night because she definitely wasn’t a friend because he kissed her

so you wondered if he was really interested in you or if it was just some dumb prank

you left the dance early that night and walked home. you didn’t want your dad to pick you up or suguru, you didn’t want them to ask you a bunch of questions

when you got home you sat on the porch. there was a swinging chair on the front porch that you loved to sit and read on

swinging back and forth with your knee up to your chest, you hummed your favorite song, thinking about everything and anything, your mind racing

you didn’t even noticed someone had come out the house and sat by you

“y/n”

you flinched as looked beside you, “gosh satoru, you could’ve given me a heart attack”

he chuckled and shook his head, looking ahead

you both stared up at the dark sky, the moon illuminating your faces, the stars shining brightly in the cataclysmic sky

“why did you leave the dance” satoru spoke up

“i got bored and decided to leave”

“he stood you up didn’t he?”

you didn’t say anything, your eyes still glued to the stars

satoru took his eyes away from the sky and looked at you, “what’s his name”

“satoru..”

“what, i’m just asking” he shrugged

you knew what he was trying to do and what he was going to do

“it doesn’t matter anymore. he doesn’t matter”

you got up and grabbed your heels, “good night satoru”

“wait, y/n-“

he stood up, towering over you

you hadn’t even notice that satoru has been growing so tall all these years, and definitely getting hotter

you brought your eyes up to meet his, waiting for what he said to say

“yes, satoru?”

“do you wanna dance?”

“what..?”

“i said to do you wanna dance.. with me?”

you both danced on your porch that night. one of his hands around your waist and the other holding your hand. with your head rest on his chest and a hand on his shoulder, the other one in his hands

the next week at school you saw the guy that stood you up at the dance with stitches and a black eye. that day satoru and suguru got called into the principal office and got suspended

that was when you knew you liked satoru, but you also knew you couldn’t be with him and you knew he wouldn’t choose you

the other time was when you were 18 finished with high school and suguru and satoru were second years in college, both 20

you moved in with your brother into an apartment off campus

satoru would come around a lot and sleepover, you didn’t know why but when you asked him, all he said was “let’s just say home isn’t very warm and welcoming right now”

one evening in the spring you had came home from work, the gentle breeze of the wind blowing through the window of the living that was slightly cracked opened

you were tired and wanting to shower and hop straight in bed

you didn’t think anyone was home because it was very quiet so you put your things away in your room and grabbed your towel and loofa

making your way over to the bathroom, humming whatever song that was stuck in your head, you opened the bathroom door, not thinking anyone was in there because you thought the house was empty

you opened the door and your eyes widened in shock

there was satoru, drying his wet hair with a towel, naked

you shut the door quickly, mentally cussing yourself as you ran back to your room

“oh my god oh my god oh my god”

you plopped down onto your bed as covered your face

you could feel your face getting warm as the image of satoru naked flashes your mind repeatedly

“hey, i’m done with the shower”

satoru’s deep voice broke you out of your state as you flinched

he stood there leaning against the door with the towel handing lowly around his waist. his happy trail and v-line on display, little water droplets running down from his neck to his toned abs and into the crevice of the towel

you nodded and got up, making your way over to your door but you stopped as satoru till stood in the way

he rested his head against the door way, looking down at you, smirking

you forgot that satoru had gotten so much smug over the years, his ego way bigger now and his attitude completely different

he can be nice if he wanted to but most of the time he was a kinda of a dick, not seeming to care about anyone but himself

but for you, he was different, he treated you differently. he would tease you here and there and call you names or make fun of you but of the end of the day, he was never really disrespectful to you or treated you like how he treated others

“my eyes are up here shorty”

you looked up at him, slightly avoiding eye contact with him. you were definitely not looking at his abs or what was under that towel, you almost found out anyways. if satoru would’ve turned around, you definitely would’ve seen but his back was turned to you when you accidentally walked in on him

“why are you being all shy now?”

he knew why, but he wanted to tease and push your buttons.

“i’m not”

“then look at me”

you averted your eyes to meet his, fully making eye contact with him now. a small smirk formed on his lips as he looked you up and down

he got off the door frame and moved closer to you.

“you know if you wanted to see my dick you could’ve just asked”

“you’re disgusting satoru and plus it was an accident” you rolled your eyes at him and his inappropriate behavior

“im just saying princess. i wouldn’t mind showing you”

“why are you so nasty” you shook your head at him as he laughed

“come on, you know i’m just pushing your buttons. suguru would murder me”

“hopefully he does, your annoying ass”

“wow”, satoru brought a hand up to his heart “that one hurt princess, how could you”, he faked sniffled

rolling your eyes, you said “satoru im too tired right now, i gotta shower”

“aw but i wanna have more fun with you” he fake pouted a little

“go have fun with some other girl”

“are you suggesting i do or implying”

“whichever one, i could careless”

“you jealous?”

you scoffed and looked away, “as if”

satoru moved closer to you, bringing a hand under your shirt slightly to grab your waist. his other hand reached up to your face and cupped your jaw

“you know you don’t need to be jealous”

“i’m not”

“it’s okay if you are, i’m not going anywhere”

what did he even mean by that, you thought to yourself

you felt satoru’s thumb caressing the flesh on your waist

“satoru i already said im not jealous, quit trying to make it sound like i am”

you moved his hand from your face and walked past him into the hallway, making your way to the bathroom

“whatever you say sweetheart” satoru said after you

a few years later you would sometimes think about that day, thinking about what he said “im not going anywhere”

you thought hard about what he was talking about or maybe trying to say but it didn’t matter anyways. not like it meant anything

you were now 21 and gojo and suguru were 23

you still lived with suguru, and still in school. you wanted to become a nurse so you were currently in nursing school. suguru owned a tattoo business of his own and even had a girlfriend. satoru had taken over his family company, becoming the new ceo

you were laying on the couch of your shared apartment with your brother watching tv as suguru walked in through the front door

“hey i’m home” he said, placing some grocery bags on the kitchen counter

“what did you buy”

“some bread, milk and other necessities”

you sat up from the couch and rest your head on the back of the chair, looking over at suguru into the kitchen

“oh and satoru invited me over at his place later tonight to hang out with some friends if you wanna come”

your ears perked up as you brought your head up from the couch

“satoru..?”

“mhmm, satoru” suguru gave you a knowing look as he wiggled his eyebrows at you

“ew don’t look at me like that”

suguru laughed, “are you gonna come?”

“does he want me to?”

“y/n, why wouldn’t he?”

“i dunno”

“you know you wanna come. you get to see your little crush”

“ewww stop sugu. i don’t like him”, you turned your back to him and looked back at the tv

“yeah sureeee”

“shut up”

you hadn’t seen satoru in about 3 months. i guess he’s been busy with work and all. he’s texted a few times to check up on you and stuff but it was like once every 2 weeks for the past 3 months

you did kinda wanted to see him. as a matter of fact you wanted to see him very badly. you missed him and his stupid face

“so are you gonna come with me?” suguru asked

“i guess i could”

later that night you wore a mini baby blue dress that hugged your figure just right. showing all your curves and such. you thought you looked nice and hopefully satoru thinks so too tonight

when you and suguru arrived to satoru’s penthouse, he opened the door for yall

“what’s up suguru”, satoru greeted his friend as they did their little handshake

suguru entered the house as you stood there, looking at satoru

“princess”, satoru give you a little smirk

“satoru”

“it’s been a while” he said, his eyes roaming over your body

“yeah it has, i’ve missed you”

your eyes widened slightly to what you said, not registering you that that you’ve missed satoru

“i mean like- not like missed missed but you know.. like not seeing you around and-“

“i missed you too y/n” satoru cut you off

“o-oh” you laughed nervously, your face getting warm

“you’re getting all shy on me again princess”

“shut up”

your rolled your eyes at him, “why don’t you make-“

“hey love birds, stop standing there and come in” you both heard suguru’s voice from inside

satoru smirked at you as he stepped aside to let you in

later on more of suguru’s and satoru’s friends showed up for their little hang out. there was 3 girls including you and a bunch of other guys, including suguru and satoru

you were talking with two of the girls, the 3 of you all becoming friends right then and there.

“you’re crazy”you giggled at something a girl named shoko said

“well he had it coming” she shrugged

the night went all as everyone played some board games. you and satoru were on a team when you guys played charades. you would’ve won if satoru would’ve guess the right answer but he swore the right answer was whatever he was thinking

“satoru we could’ve won” you groaned at him

“well it’s not my fault”

“what do you mean it’s not, it is”

later on the party ended and everyone left. it was just you, suguru, and satoru now, watching tv

suguru got a text and spoke up “sorry i gotta leave guys, my girl wants me”

“are you okay staying here y/n?” suguru asked you as he stood up from the couch

“yeah i’m fine, tell her i said hi”

suguru hugged you and dabbed up satoru

“stay safe. no monkey business”, suguru said as he left, you rolled your eyes and turn your eyes towards the movie

it was just you and satoru now. he sat, manspreading with a hand resting behind your head on the couch, both of your knees brushing against each other ever now and then

“do you have any water?” you asked, looking over to satoru

“yeah, you thirsty?”

“yeah”

he got up and made his way to his kitchen, you followed him. when the both of you got to the kitchen, he grabbed a water bottle and handed it to you

“thanks” you give him a smile smile

“i missed that” satoru said, leaning against the kitchen island

“missed what?”

“that little smile of yours you would do. i missed seeing it”

you smiled more and took a sip of the water, you face heating up. “really?”

“yes really. i remember the first time i saw that smile. the summer before you went to 6th grade”

“oh yeah, that was definitely a time”

“remember those boys who were bullying you?” satoru chuckled, looking over at you

“unfortunately, i do”

“that guy definitely deserved that bloody nose”

“oh yeah i remember that too. thanks for that”

“no need to thank me, they were teasing you and nobody teases my girl except for me”

you blushed at the comment satoru made about you being his girl

“you know your dress you’re wearing right now reminds me of the blue one you wore that day”

“eww don’t remind me, i really thought it was cute”

“but it was cute, blue is my favorite color”

“well of course it is” you playfully rolled your eyes

“and your dress right now looks perfect on you” satoru leaned in closer to you

you give him a small smile and thanked him, putting the water bottle on the counter

satoru’s hands reached out and moved to your thighs, his fingers brushing against your skin as he ran a hand along the hem of your dress

“very pretty”

“thanks, i got it from one of my favorite stores..”, you say looking down at your dress

“im not talking about the dress y/n”

“what?”

you looked up at him to meet his gaze, he was so close to you now, you could feel his breath on your face

you, you’re..” he leans in more, “..pretty”

he finally closes the gap between you both, his lip grazing yours. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you so bad” he whispers against your lips

“what’s stopping you”

he smiles as his lips presses against yours, soft and warm lips taking yours in. both of his hands moves up to grab your waist, pulling you flush against him

your hands grab onto his biceps and hold him as your lips move against his. he opens his mouth slightly to taste more of you. the kiss starts to get more heated, satoru bites your lower lip and that earns a whimper from you, he takes that as a chance to push his tongue into your mouth. his tongue moving and sliding over yours, making wet sounds

his hands grip hips tightly, but firm enough to not hurt you

he tilts his head to the side to deepen the the kiss. his hands to the hem of your dress, his hand slides under dress, grabbing your ass and squeezing it

you moaned against his lips, your panties getting damped even more.

“you don’t know what you do to me” satoru says into the kiss, his fingers toying with your panties, teasing to take it off

he pulled his hands from under your dress and picks you up. you wrap legs around his waist as he walks to his room, lips still on yours, kissing you more sloppily now

he lays you down on the bed and pulls out of the kiss. when he stands up he wastes no time taking his clothes off, he’s now only in his boxers, his harden cock very visible now. you could practically see the veins outlining the outside of his boxers

your mouth hangs open slightly, taking in satoru as he stood there. he was truly built like a greek god

“are you done?”, satoru spoke up, breaking you out of your trance of your practically thirsting over him

“not really, i’m still enjoying it”

he chuckled and climbed back over you. he reached up behind you to unzip your dress, his finger tips grazing the exposed skin on your back. he finally unzips and gently slides it off you, leaving you in only panties

“no bra?” satoru eyes looks over your body, taking in you like hes been starving for days and you are the only one to full to him up

“why not” you shrugged

“fuck baby, you’re killing me” satoru groans dramatically, his lips finding yours again in a heated and sloppy kiss

as his lips worked on yours, one of his hands slides down to your clothed pussy as he pressed his thumb to your clit

whimpering into the kiss you buck your hips, searching for more friction from his finger

“relax, i’ll give you what you want princess” satoru says, pulling out of the kiss. he moved down to your heat, right where you needed him

“so wet for me and all for me” satoru whispers against your pussy. the feeling of his warm breath against you is enough to make you want to squeeze your thighs together

he uses his middle finger to pull your panties to one side and flicks his tongue against your clit

“fuck~” you threw your head back in pleasure. satoru rips your panties off without hesitation and threw them to the side, while looking at you the whole time

he waste no time in tasting you, his tongue gliding through your wet and puffy folds, tasting your juices

he lets out a deep hum in satisfaction, “been wanting to taste you for so long”

he goes all in, attaching his mouth to your clit and sucking on it harshly. it was like he’s been dying to taste you and now that he’s finally gotten a taste, he can’t get enough of it

when he moves from your clit, he start fucking your pussy with his tongue. his hands on your thighs holding you in place firmly as his tongue fucks you

“oh fuck toru~” you moaned his name, your hand moving to his hair to grip it for some sort of support

satoru got even harder from the nickname you just called him

“say it again princess” he muffled into your pussy

“toru~”

he stops tongue fucking you and spits on your pussy and then again, his spit and your juices mixing together. he watches it drip down between your folds, the sight being mesmerizing to him

he uses his middles finger and teased your entrance with it

“stop teasing toru-” your pleas was cut short as satoru slips his finger inside you, you let out a gasp but it quickly turns into a moan when satoru starts fingering you

he’s moving his fingers at a slow and steady pace, he wanted to take his own time with you. he liked the way your warm pussy clenched around his finger, he couldn’t wait to see how it’ll feel when your pussy was wrapped his dick, with your walls squeezing him and sucking him in

“do you like that?” satoru asked, his finger speeding up

“y-yeah, feels so good”

he adds another finger, his mouth moving back to your clit to suck on while his fingers worked fast inside you

“gonna cum toru~”

he hums in response to you, his mouth latched onto you, not wanting to let go until he tastes your sweet juices

a few strokes from his fingers later and you’re moaning and coming onto his finger, hands grabbing and pulling at his hairs as you bring his face flush against your pussy

satoru continues to finger you as you’re coming and when you’re done, he pulls out his fingers to lick up all your juices

“so fucking sweet”

then he’s kissing you, making you taste yourself on his lips, his tongue sliding into your mouth

you reach down and palm him through his boxers, feeling how hard he was, you felt him twitch underneath your touch

“mm baby~” he moaned into the kiss, his hand rubbing up and down your thighs

“wanna feel you toru~”

he pushes you down onto the bed gently and gets rids of his boxers. he grabs your thighs and pulls you towards him more. his dick resting against your lower stomach

“are you ready?” he asked, rubbing his tip against your entrance, covering his head in your juices

“mhm”

“use your words, tell me how badly you want it princess”

“satoru stop playing with me”

“well i guess i won’t give you what you want then”

“w-wait toru-“

you moan loudly when satoru pushes his dick inside of you, his tip already hitting your g-spot on impact

“you were saying?” he said with a smug expression on his face

your eyes roll to the back of your head as satoru begins moving his hips, thrusting into your pussy

“mm toru~”

“you don’t know.. fuck.. how long i’ve wanting you feel you wrapped around me. it’s like you were always teasing me in those short little things you would wear~”

“ngh toru, go faster~”

“beg me for it”

“p-please”

“huh? can’t hear you”

“fuck satoru, please. please fuck me”

that’s all satoru needed as his hands tightened on your thighs, pushing your legs forward, to gain more access to your pussy so he can push his dick deeper inside you

his thrust speed up, going deeper than ever. you could feel him in your womb. he watched the outline of his dick moving inside you, the sight making him want to cum right there on the spot

“it’s so d-deep toru~”

“i know baby. but you’re doing so well, taking me so good”

he lets go of your thighs and leans down to kiss you, swallowing your moans and whimpers

“s-so fucking good. just like that” he says between kisses

satoru pulls out of the kiss and looks down at you, you bring your hands up to his face to caress his face

“i love you y/n”

“d-do you mean it?”

“i’ve never been so sure. i love you so much y/n, you don’t know. since i meant you, my heart has only beat for one person, you”

you felt tears well up in your eyes, “i love you too satoru, im happy you feel the same, i love you so much”, you caressed his cheek

he leans down and kisses you, licking your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth

he starts to thrust into you again, bullying his dick in into your pussy

“ngh, gonna come toru~”

“come for me baby, wanna feel you”

he’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he fucks his dick into you

a few thrusts later and you’re releasing all over his dick

“toru~”

“fuck baby”, his rhythm gets sloppier, hips stuttering into yours as he releases into you. spewing affirmations into your ear

he fucks his cum into you, kissing your jaw and your neck. you hold him tightly against your chest, legs wrapped around him

when he’s done shooting his load into you, he relaxes into your arms, nestling against you

“i love you y/n” satoru muffled into your chest

“i love you too toru”

you could hear soft snores coming satoru as you combed your finger through his hair, smiling to yourself

i guess it was a blessing after all to have satoru gojo around

210 notes · View notes

heerinnie · 1 year

Text

It’s 5am and I can’t stop thinking about silver Heeseung like please ruin my life Mr Lee.

^^NSFW UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI (not proof read)

SYNOPSIS: Possessive Heeseung x fem!reader at a workplace party where everyone can’t stop ogling and shooting a shot with either one of them.

WARNINGS: established relationship, marking (f!receiving), possessive!heeseung x possessive!reader, public display of affection (public making out), implied orgasm denial + dom!heeseung. Not smut but like a semi hard thought.

WC: 442

Read undercut

Heeseung is undeniably the possessive type. The kind that slithers his arms around your body when he catches other people staring at you, in his eyes it didn’t matter if it was a man or woman, old or young, he could read the room like a book left wide open.

If he thought you reciprocated the looks with anyone but him he’d make sure you’d know with the way he’d lightly squeeze your hand or waist and the way you could feel him twitch out of anger that his baby would accidentally lead someone on into thinking they have a chance.

They didn’t. So to make it obvious he’d leave purple marks of his love and lust on your collarbones and neck and as compensation he’d buy you jewellery of the same purple hue to compliment the hickeys littering your body.

He’s not toxic about it, never blaming you for the way others ogled you because god knows that even he can’t go a second without admiring all that you are however, if you even as much as try to make him jealous by flirting with someone else his mind and composure would shatter like fine glass during an earthquake.

If there’s one thing you can count on it’s that your jealous boyfriend will make sure everyone who thinks you’re available leaves knowing they were wrong. He wasn’t a huge fan of pda but it wouldn’t stop him from snogging you in front of anyone who dared to make a move. Do you complain? Absolutely not, that’s what you wanted. It was a two way game, girls staring at heeseung and some dude staring at you. You wanted it to be clear that he’s yours and you’re his without initiating the first move.

After pulling back from the kiss it left your eyes glossy and lip stick partially smudged as you felt an ache between your legs. You signed to Heeseung that it was time to leave and he couldn’t be happier to finally get out of the boring meet up. On the way home you knew that you weren’t gonna rest with the way your boyfriend was clutching on steering wheel with so much force his knuckles turned lighter.

“Seungie, calm down. Don’t you think you’re being a bit controlling?” Your voice laced through his head, intentionally adding fuel to the fire,

“Controlling? I’ll show you controlling when I make sure you don’t cum unless I want you to” he responded with a dry laugh watching the road and not even sparing you a glance.

You fucked up, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

A/N: I’m gonna try and sleep, goodnight my little degenerates <3

-Rinnie 💟

623 notes · View notes

schoenpepper · 24 days

Text

River (Charlie Puth)

Intro: He doesn't understand why you keep getting closer and closer to him, even after all he's done. You don't understand why you love him, either.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread it's too long for me to give a fuck, reader is like simp 100%, book 4-5 spoilers ig, not canon happenings huehuehue, kinda disconnected but like, all my songfics are disconnected so idk, i was half asleep writing the latter parts, so it'll be messy for sure

A/N: Jamil my babygirl~ The people don't enjoy my Twisted Harmonies series, but I don't care because I like writing them. This one went through a couple edits though.

Masterlist

Don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

Meeting Jamil was the start of living for you.

Coasting through life back in your old world; everyday was a chore you had to get through in order to continue existing. When you got magically transported to a place with magic and new cultures and new people, it was like you finally got back to the same starting point as everyone else.

But seeing those dark gray eyes and long brown tresses, it made your heart beat for the first time.

A beauty that seems to want to go unnoticed, but how could you ignore him when his radiance filled your very being as naturally as oxygen filled your lungs? When he hid in his mask of incompetence and facade of normalcy, what can you do but trip over your own feet and fall? You see him, and the only thing you want to do is to be closer to him, enough to peel back that visage of mystery, to read him like an open book. Jamil is like a mirage in the deserts of the Scalding Sands, however, you know that the moment you reach out to touch him, he’ll fade away right in front of you.

So you keep watching.

You can’t do anything but watch.

You watch him plot and plan and fall victim to his own schemes. You watch him boil together the mess of feelings he doesn’t know how to release. You watch him bathe in his misery, you watch him drown in it.

You keep your hand to yourself instead of offering it.

You know he’ll never take it.

Look, you can play it cool

Act like you don't care

River don't be cruel

You're pushing me away

You’re interesting.

Jamil doesn’t care about much, and he certainly doesn’t care about you.

But a magicless human barreling into his world (literally) at orientation? You’ve got his interest peaked, at least. That’s it. He doesn’t care enough to give you a second glance. The only thing he knows about you is that you’re from a different world. But rumors always spread like wildfire, and suddenly, you’re the talk of the school. Riddle overblotted and you, somehow, are on center stage. In the Spelldrive tournament, he doesn’t know too much about what transpired, but what he does know is that you’re involved again somehow.

You could be useful.

You could be an asset to him, a boon if used correctly.

1, 2, 3, pieces fall into place.

Kalim is powerful, even if he doesn’t know it. But you, you’re Crowley’s little helper, aren’t you? You can make the headmaster look at the problem head on, instead of cowing to the Al Asims’ money. When everyone in Scarabia, and even Ramshackle’s prefect themself, is saying that Kalim is no longer fit to be housewarden, then wouldn’t the headmaster need to listen?

Stay.

Stay for another dinner. Another night. Another training session.

Stay until you’re useless to Jamil.

Don't want to get hurt

So you hurt me first

With the words you say

Maybe you should fall

Hah. You ruined his plans.

He lays on the floor, soaked in ink and sweat and tears, the forbidden taste of freedom lingering on his tongue. Azul and the twins are looking at him with mild amusement, even though he could clearly see they were just as injured, just as tired as he was. But he can’t read you. Even under snake whisper, he never understands what’s in your mind. You’re looking at him with an expression he can’t place, you give him a feeling he can’t shake. He’s lightheaded, he doesn’t really know where to go from here—when the adrenaline runs out and blood returns to his veins, Jamil has no idea what to do.

He hurt Kalim.

He hurt his dorm.

He hurt you.

Is that all he can do? When the chains that bind him are momentarily unlocked, is hurting other people the only thing he’s good at?

He meets your eyes.

There it is again; an emotion he doesn’t get. Are you pitying him? Is it empathy, sympathy? What do you want from him?

There is nothing that Jamil Viper can offer you.

Not when he doesn’t even belong to himself.

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Things are looking up

You think it’s unfair how beautiful Jamil is, even defeated and down on his knees. You ignore Grim for a moment to skirt around the black substance on the floor, making your way to Jamil. He looks at you warily, reminiscent of a wild animal that’s cautious, and rightly so, of a strange being entering its territory.

You hold your hand out.

You should know better than to hope that today is finally the day that he takes it.

But he does.

It’s more than what you imagined it to be. In your dreams, the boy that you love takes it with a flustered face and an awkward smile, hands clammy with sweat. In reality, the very first time that Jamil ever takes your hand, there’s a determined look on his face and sludge on his palms. He’s tiredly glaring at you, likely internally cursing you out for ruining his evil plans. With the way his pretty eyes are slightly squinted, brows furrowed and lips curved downwards into a frown, you think it’s so much better than your fantasies.

Because it’s the real Jamil.

And his grip kind of hurts when you help him up, but he doesn’t complain when you make him lean on your shoulder for support. You help him back to his room.

Everything’s over. For now.

But for you and your poor heart, it’s all just begun.

Maybe this is the step you’d needed to get closer to him? Maybe this is the part of the cheesy romantic movie where he lets you in after troubles and tribulations? Maybe this time, you can get to know who he really is.

Strip away the practiced incompetence. Take off his cloak made of calculated errors.

So, it’s decided.

From now on, you’ll find out everything about Jamil, and you’ll give and give and give and give, if only to replace the parts he’d had to give away over the years.

You’re both broken.

But maybe if you give him the parts of you that are still working, at least one of you can be fixed.

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

He wakes up in the infirmary. It’s still you.

Why are you still here?

Leave. Leave him alone. He doesn’t deserve your gentle care, not when it’s his fault, not when he’s the reason both for your and his own injuries. You never say a word, but you redress his wounds so carefully, making sure not to hurt him in the process.

What do you get out of this?

He genuinely doesn’t understand.

Jamil has never been kind to you, no, he’s always done what he needed to do in order to get you to move according to the script he’d written. He’d toyed with you, manipulated you, don’t you understand? He lied, because lying is his nature, because you’re just so gullible, you never even thought twice before believing any of his words.

Why don’t you get it?

You hand him a packet of cookies. Cheap ones from the school store, but judging by the way you’re dressed, and what little knowledge he has of your financial situation, he knows it’s all you have on you. He takes it with a soft ‘thanks’ and opens it. It tastes like cardboard, he can make better ones.

But you smile at him.

Your smile reminds him of the sun back home. It’s unbearably bright, he wants to turn his eyes away, but it’s also so unbearably stunning. And your voice, it’s akin to the nectar of blooming flowers in the spring when they travel through the air in all their sweetness. “Eat up, you need to regain your strength.”

If you refuse to be his enemy…then what is he supposed to do?

Look, darling don't give up

When the water's rough

Where you gonna go?

My heart is your home

You are persistent, if nothing else. In a corner somewhere, in a low whisper that no one other than you or him would have heard, he’d apologized. You accepted his apology. He thought that would have been the end of it. You’d return to the state of strangers, as you had been before the winter vacation. But you’re like honey, sticking to his fingers and leaving a saccharine residue he just can’t wash off. You’re in the cafeteria and you choose to sit next to him, in the hallways where you greet him a cheery ‘good morning’ and ‘good afternoon’, in the parties in Scarabia that Kalim invites you to.

You pull Jamil away to a hidden balcony to escape the noise. You laugh and chatter away even when he doesn’t reply.

You hold his hand.

He lets you.

He doesn’t know why, but he lets you do whatever you want. He never stops you, even though he knows he should.

You show up to basketball practice and every single game. He tries, he really does, to convince himself that you’re there for Ace. You guys are best friends, right? So of course you’d be there to support him. Hell, you could even be there for Floyd, with how close you seem to be with the merman.

(Jamil is a liar, after all.)

He tells himself you’re not there for him.

Even when you run up to him after a successful play, passing him a cold bottle of water and a fluffy towel for his sweat, he swears you’re not there to support him. Why would you? He’s the guy that threw you all the way to the other side of his dormitory.

(You only give Ace an eye roll when he brags about the win, and Floyd, a high five.)

(The best liars fool themselves.)

Nothing is as cold

As running on your own

So river don't you rush

Maybe you should fall

You have…what was the expression again?

Jamil watches on with Kalim from the corner of the court.

Two left feet, that’s it. Your dancing is, quite frankly, hilarious to watch. A mess of uncoordinated limbs flailing about, but it’s certainly better than Grim’s or Deuce’s. Kalim interrupts with a well-meaning comment (rude, but it’s true), and somehow, Jamil’s volunteered against his will to teach the clumsy first-years how to dance.

Ace knows enough of the basics, Deuce is remarkably stiff, Grim is a hopeless case.

But you can learn.

You want to pass the auditions too? Vil’s rather stringent with his requirements, though Rook is certainly not. But if you want to have even a shot at this, maybe Jamil can teach you more thoroughly, one on one.

Sevens, even he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore.

You agree.

(Why did you agree?)

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Things are looking up

One hand on your waist, the other gently fixing your leg in place by your upper thigh.

(He wonders if you can hear his heart beating when his chest is to your back.)

“You should be more relaxed. The song isn’t aggressive, so you shouldn’t be so stiff.” Jamil speaks lowly into your ear, and he feels you shudder but never pull away. Instead, you nod and try to follow his instructions the best you can. Your body melts into the posture he’s veering you towards, molded by his palms. You’re warm, and the way you’re nervously looking back over your shoulder to gauge his reaction makes him think of the stray cats that occasionally circled him for food.

“Sorry, I just, don’t really dance,” you admit in embarrassment.

“Then why do you want to audition for the SDC?”

“Hm? Because my friends are auditioning. They think that if enough of us are in the team, they’ll be able to replace Epel. He doesn’t seem very willing to compete, after all.”

And there you are again.

Saving another stranger, as if kindness itself is melded into your bones. Jamil finds that he was wrong; it’s not just your smile that’s evocative of sunlight, it’s you. Your eyes meet his with a warmth that doesn’t burn, yet touching your skin makes him feel like he’d just come in contact with red-hot lava.

If you’re this kind to everyone, was he just another charity case to you?

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Jamil pushes you away like it’s routine.

Everytime you think you’ve managed to dig deeper, you’re met with another blockade, each stronger than the last. He’s confusing, because everytime you think he’s letting you get closer (every time, you’re given hope that your feelings have come through), you’re disappointed again and again and again. You manage to graze the edge of his fingers before he flinches away like your touch burns him like hot metal.

And you keep trying.

What else are you supposed to do?

You continue your efforts and hope and pray that one day, he’ll see you.

But for now, you watch out for his lines and redraw them without his knowledge. You do what you can to be his friend, because even though every bone in your body is begging for his love, you know it’s impossible when he won’t even let you be his confidant. You sit next to him and stay, even when he tries to scoot further away from you. Is it healthy? Probably not. You know better than to do what you’re doing. But you don’t stop.

(Jamil is like a drug injected straight into your veins.)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

Don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

He thought that distancing himself from you would be the right thing to do. He doesn’t know if it’s right, but what he does know is that it’s impossible. You’re a thought always running through his mind; a dream flowing through his reality.

When did it start that, even when he knows you’re not near, he still searches for you?

Jamil almost feels relief when he arrives at Pomefiore and realizes that you didn’t make the cut. Almost. He’s not relieved though, it’s overshadowed by a feeling of restlessness he doesn’t understand.

Anything concerning you, Jamil’s never quite understood.

Then you arrive anyway. When he’s managed to calm his heart down, you rev it up again like an engine. Vil announces you to be the team manager, and you agree quickly to let the team stay at Ramshackle at the notion of the prize money.

(You certainly weren’t looking at Jamil when you agreed.)

How is he supposed to avoid you now?

He moves in with the rest of the group, when you insist that you’re one bedroom short and thus, regretfully, Jamil would have to stay with you for the duration of his stay. He’s a liar, of course he knows you’re lying. He can see your gleeful smile you’re desperately trying to hide, in the small giggles that leave your lips when you think no one’s paying attention to you. He can decline, of course, and just room with Kalim instead where he can make sure that the heir survives the night without too much distance.

Instead, he agrees, only asking for Kalim to room nearby.

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Your very smart and well thought-out plan worked.

Hm, maybe a little too well.

Jamil didn’t say anything when you basically forced him into sharing a room with you. Now he’s in the bathroom, and you’re shaking in your pajamas (from fear? Excitement? Withdrawal symptoms?), tucked into your cheap cotton sheets you’d bought at Sam’s for a couple thaumarks. It is unfortunate, but true, when you say that these are the nicest sheets you have. Jamil exits the bathroom fully clothed (sadly), hair wrapped in a towel and a hair dryer in hand. “Let me help you.” There is no way you were letting an opportunity like this slip through your fingers.

Surprisingly, he complies.

He’s sitting on your bed while you’re kneeling on the mattress behind him, plugging the device on and getting to work. God, it’s divine, he’s divine—his hair smells fruity and floral, and it moves through your fingers like he’s in a shampoo commercial.

(Don’t be a freak. Don’t sniff his hair.)

It takes a long time for it to dry, but when it does, it’s smooth and shiny and absolutely gorgeous. He tries to get up and says he can put his hair oil on by himself, and you take out the pushiest, most blunt sides of you in order to convince him to let you do it too.

Safe to say, sleep escapes you when you’re next to a five-foot-seven beauty in an oversized hoodie and pajama pants.

Maybe you should fall

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Jamil has come to the conclusion that he can’t avoid you.

Perhaps it was a realization that should have come long ago. But as the days pass by and he’s in your dormitory, it only further cements in him the feelings he’d been running from. Seeing you everyday feels right, spending every waking moment with you is more than just comfortable. It’s freeing in a way, like he’d just arrived to the countryside from the smoke of the city and he’s taking his first whiff of fresh air.

Practice is enjoyable.

He dances and he sings, and he can feel your eyes on him, roaming up and down but never to anyone else. For the first time in his life, someone’s chosen him, someone’s looking at him with every bit of their attention and focus. Not Kalim, not anyone else. Him. Jamil might be addicted to the feeling of you so openly lusting after him, almost begging for his attention.

(He can’t recognize the other emotions, but physical attraction is easy to read.)

You desire him. Really?

When he looks back at you, catching you in the middle of your act, he enjoys seeing your flustered face and avoidant gaze all the more. Vil calls for a break, so he stretches before taking the sports drink you’re offering.

(It reminds him of when you’d visit him during his basketball games.)

Jamil lightens the mood by deciding to make small talk with you instead of calling you out on your behavior. He takes a sip and laughs with you when Ace and Grim get in a scuffle in the middle of the dance floor, Vil breaking them up with a well-thrown bottle of apple juice. He watches you laugh at Ace clutching a forming bump on his forehead. It sounds like something he can’t quite place, but what he does know is that he’s dreamt of it before—

He’s…dreamt of you.

Multiple times.

The realization hits him harder than the bottle that Vil had thrown at Ace.

Things are looking up

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

Practice was useless.

You watch the reaction of the crowd in response to Neige and his team’s rehearsal. It was a fine performance (if it had been done in a kindergarten recital). Yet you see Vil seething and Rook sighing like the both of them had already seen defeat before it even arrived. You feel annoyance, frustration, injustice (why should the cutesy dance win when it was poorly put together, nothing but a mockup of an actually talented number?). None of that helps.

Vil overblots.

It’s familiar, though it probably shouldn’t be. The fight saps all the energy you had in your body, and you rush to your friends before the dust even settles, thankfully, no one has a serious injury. They still perform despite everything that had just happened, on the stage that your friend Tsunotarou had rebuilt with just a flick of his wrist. Predictably, they lose.

Well, who said the majority of people had good taste?

(You find Jamil packing in your room right afterwards. You convince him to stay, just a little longer. You wonder what you would need to do to convince him to stay forever.)

Oh river (river, river) (don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Don't run (river, river) (no don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Jamil thinks he finally understands.

Not you, exactly, rather, the combination of emotions he always finds whenever he looks into your eyes. It was love, a deep adoration that seeped into your soul and made you vulnerable to everything he did. It makes him rethink; was it his unique magic all that time ago, or was it just you fully willing to submit to his whims? No, when did this even start? You’ll likely never give him an answer to that question, but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Retrace the steps, right? All the way back to the first time he met you.

(It’s not quite love yet. But something is there, and he doesn’t know why.)

It’s incorrect for him to assume that just because he found out what your feelings for him were, he’d automatically unravel who you are as a person. It only serves to deepen the enigma; what had he done for you to notice him so early on?

(He crosses out the possibility it might be love at first sight. How boring.)

You must be some tactical genius, and every action leading to this moment must’ve all been a trap. It was as if every step he’d taken since the day you met had only led him spiraling down, deeper and deeper into you. You’re a master at this game he’d noticed too late, you’d already gotten him stuck in your well-woven web of deceit.

How unexpected.

And yet, thrilling.

As Jamil lays his head on your lap, drifting off to a peaceful sleep under the shade of the apple tree, he takes in the feeling of you gently massaging his scalp and thinks of only one thing.

He’d lost to your machinations.

(If you want it so badly, Jamil will give you whatever is left of him that is his. He will trust you.)

Oh river (river, river) (don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Don't run (river, river) (no don't run from me river)

From our love (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

His eyelashes are remarkably long. You gently trail a fingertip over the edge of its fanned-out shape, taking note of the shadow it leaves on his cheekbones.

He doesn’t wake up when you kiss his cheek.

Jamil is a mystery you want to keep trying to read every single moment of everyday. He’s a person you want to keep next to you, even if you’ve already gotten to the bottom of all his plans and ideals. You were attracted to him because Jamil is a shattered mirror, all its pieces still reflecting you.

He was barely existing too.

You saw in him what you know is present within yourself; a creature of self-doubt and hatred, wanting to know its place in this world, needing to know its purpose for existence. But unlike you, Jamil took steps to find a way out of his own personal hell, while back in your own world, you were only ever stuck in the same place. He’s everything you never thought you needed, but did.

Now, he’s breathing.

You wonder if he feels safe with you.

You wonder if he feels the same way that you do. Does he look at you and feel alive? Just like how Jamil was the beginning of your living, are you his?

You don’t need to know the answer.

(You couldn’t fix him, and he couldn’t fix you. Isn’t it great, then, that your broken pieces slot right into each other?)

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper

96 notes · View notes

annabelinlove · 9 months

Text

I am yours

Pairing: Poly!marauders x reader

Word Count: 2k

Summary: How your searching for love led you to the Marauders

Notes: English is not my first language, use of Y/n, James was dating Lily but then stared dating Wolfstar, just started writing so maybe shit lol

Dating wasn’t easy, not when you were a student at Hogwarts where everyone was in each other business and you couldn’t do anything without it being the hot topic all around the school the next day. Also, being a Slytherin was view as being a snobbish bitch, which didn’t really help your dating life. And still, you wanted to be loved and love with your whole heart.

“I know you’re not studying, darling.”

Your thinking was disturbed by a calm voice that belong to no other than Remus Lupin. You had no idea, how your friendship with the marauders began. Maybe it was when you were 11 and James Potter helped you find your class, when you were wandering lost around the Castle. Maybe it was when you were 13 in a potion class and your hair was falling into your face and Sirius Black gave you his scrunchie so you won’t fuck up the potion because you couldn’t see. Or was it when Remus Lupin gave you his chocolate when he found you frustrated in the library over a stupid homework when you were 12? You really didn’t know, but the golden boys of Gryffindor were your best friends and you wouldn’t change a thing, even if you were secretly hoping, that you could be more.

“I am studying.” You tried to defend yourself, even if you were lost in your thoughts for the last 10 minutes. Remus gave you un unimpressed look as if trying to tell you that he knew you were lying.

“You were just staring at the page for Merlin knows how long, you can’t fool me, darling.” You were sure that the pet names, that each of the marauders gave you would be the end of you yet you would probably really die if they stopped with them.

“Maybe I’m just really interested in this page,” you tried once again, but you knew you were doomed. “Pff, even Moony doesn’t stare that long at a page when it’s interesting. What’s on your mind, hm?” James joined the conversation, ditching his homework.

“This Slytherin boy I’ve been seeing wants to take things to the next level,” you admitted, thinking about the conversation you had this morning. Sirius raised his head, that was comfortably in Remus’ lap, suddenly intrigued in the conversation as well. All 3 pairs of eyes were on you, all of them having a different emotion in them. You squirmed in the silence, hoping one of them would break the silence. After a few seconds Sirius was the first to speak.

“Who was it again? So I can break his face the next time I see him.” You blinked at him, surprised by his violent tendencies. You didn’t know what kind of reaction you expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. Not knowing what to say you just stared at him, but thankfully Remus came to your aid.

“Come on, Pads. Maybe Y/n wants to take things to the next level and I’m pretty sure broken bones would kind of ruin that.” He scolded the raven haired boy, but gave you a curious glance, wondering what was your answer.

“I told him I’d think about it, but I don’t really know what I should tell him. He’s nice and everything, but I feel absolutely nothing when I’m with him,” you answered the unsaid question of all three boys. “Good.” was the immediate answer from Sirius, but James jumped in before he could say anything else. “Is that what’s bothering you, sweets? If you don’t want to be with him, just say it.” He took you hand, when he notices you picking on your nails, a nasty habit you did whenever you were nervous.

It took you a second before answering, looking at yours and James’ joined hands.

“I guess I just expected more, ya know? When he first asked me out, I think I said yes just because I was so surprised anyone would find me attractive or interesting enough to want to go out with, especially someone I just met on hallways and saw in the common room, someone who didn’t know me and I was so eager to go with him because I was hoping I’d finally find someone I could be really happy with. Feel the butterflies and the love and all that shit but that didn’t happen. I don’t feel anything when I’m with him and I don’t know what to do now that I know it’s not what I hoped for.” You were quiet for a second, the boys not interrupting you. They knew you and knew you had more to say.

“But maybe I should be his girlfriend, take things to the next level. So what if it’s not like what I dreamed of, we can’t always have what we want and it’d nice to be someone’s girlfriend. Be with someone who cares about you is always nice, am I right? It could also help me stop feeling like a fourth wheel whenever we hang out and you’re acting all coupley while I’m just kind of there.” You spilled how you felt without being able to stop yourself. Was it the best choice? Maybe not, but you really needed to talk to someone about your feelings and you trusted them and knew they would never judge you.

“Surprised anyone would find you attractive enough? When was the last time you looked into a mirror, pet? Your are by far the most gorgeous girl in Hogwarts. But don’t be fooled, we don’t hang out with you for your looks, but because of how you make us feel. How you make us laugh when we’re sad, how you take care of us and do everything you think we might need, because of how amazing you and your personality is. Everybody would be proud to call you theirs. I’m actually surprised it took this long for someone to ask you out. I would have done it ages ago if I knew I’d stood a chance.” You lifted your head to look at Sirius, finding him looking at you in disbelief. You were definitely surprised by his words. You felt warmth spreading inside you body, thinking about his words. I would have done it ages ago if I knew I’d stood a chance, what did he mean by that? But before you could ask, Remus continued Sirius’ speech.

“Being with someone just to not be alone isn’t really a healthy thing, love. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be with this guy, do whatever you want, you are your own person and no one can tell you what do. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t waste your time dating someone you don’t feel any connection with. If you want butterflies, go find someone who makes you feel butterflies. You deserve so much more than to be with some bloke who doesn’t meet your expectations. Don’t lower your standards for anyone. And we never, ever wanted to make you feel like a fourth wheel, and we’re really sorry we did, love. If you’d feel more comfortable, we could stop acting all coupley, as you’ve put it, and be much less PDA with you. Whatever makes you happy and feeling the most comfortable with us.” Even tho he tried to mask it, you could see the hurt on his face and hear it in his voice. You didn’t think that your words would hurt them, that was the last thing you wanted.

“Listen to me and listen carefully, can you do that, sweetheart? I always thought that being with Lily would make me the happiest man in the world, that’s why I was trying so hard to get together with her. But when it finally happened I wasn’t happy. I tried so hard to love her, but I realized that I never did, I just loved the idea of her loving me. I wanted the same thing you want now. Everyday I saw how Pads and Moony are in love and I wanted that, just not with Lily, as I’ve come to realize. We were both unhappy so why should we stay together? Breaking up with her was the best thing ever, because it led her to be with Mary and I found my way to my boys. And let me tell you, being with them is the happiest I could ever be. And with you by our side. If you don’t feel happy, don’t waste your time with him. You may thing that it’s gonna be okay and you’ll find what you want, but it’s only gonna leave you miserable in the end,” James added.

You tried to wrap your head around everything what was said, but it left you confused. You knew you didn’t want to be with the Slytherin boy, you wanted to be part of the relationship these boys had, but you knew it wouldn’t be possible. But maybe they were right and being in a relationship just to be in one was stupid.

“I never want you to start acting differently or hide your relationship around me That’s the last thing I want and I’m sorry if it came out like I did. I love seeing you all in love, I really do. I feel the most comfortable when you are being yourselves, so please don’t ever change that,” you started to explain. You knew that if you didn’t say anything now, you never would. “I guess I’m just a little jealous that I could never be part of the love you share, you know? I think I want to be with someone so bad so I would stop feeling the need to be with you. Everyday I see how happy you are and I feel jealous because I know I’m not the reason you are happy. I stared something with this boy because I was hoping it would make these feeling stop, but if anything it has gotten worse. Every time he did something, the only thing I could think about was that you would do it differently,” you ended your speech, feeling nervous about what they would say. Would they reject you? Make fun of you? They would never do that told you the voice in you head and you knew it was right, you just didn’t know what to expect now.

“Then let us. Let us treat you like royalty, like you deserve. Let us love you like you deserve, let us be yours and let yourself be ours. Let us take you out and show you what love is supposed to feel like. Please, just let us, pet,” Sirius almost begged. You looked at him in surprise once again, and saw nothing but determination and love in his eyes. He really means it. You looked at the other two boys and found the exact same expression. You wanted to respond so bad but the only thing that you were able to say was just a soft what?

“We’ve talked about this quite a long time ago, we just didn’t know what to do,” James stared to explain. “We weren’t sure if you felt the same way and we didn’t want to ruin what we have now. But we’ve fallen, sweetheart. We fell so hard for you, you had us wrapped around your finger from the beginning and you didn’t even know it.” James gave you a small, almost shy smile.

“We knew that it could be weird, especially when we’re already in a relationship, but if you want us, love, we are yours and always have been. Be ours as well?” Remus finished for him. All of them waiting impatiently for your response. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You blinked a few times to wake up, but it wasn’t a dream. Actually, it was a dream comes true. You always wanted to hear them say they want you the same way you wanted them. A huge smile formed on your face

“I am yours, always will be.”

Your newfound relationship was the talk of the school for days to come, but the three Gryffindor golden boys didn’t seem to care. About the rumors, about you being a Slytherin, about anything really. If anything, they were proud that the whole school talked about them. Talked about you being with them. Everything was finally how it should be and none of you couldn’t be happier.

#poly!marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders fluff #the marauders #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x Slytherin!reader #remus x sirius #Remus x Sirius x James x you #harry potter #marauders fanfiction #poly marauders fluff #fluff #young marauders #sirius black x you #james potter x you #remus lupin x you #marauders x y/n #y/n

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jimblejamblewritings · 23 days

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Sorry to be back on my fanfic blog without fanfic but I do listen to kpop and have listened to NCT’s music so I feel it necessary to speak up.

1. Don’t defend Taeil.

While innocent until proven guilty is still a motto the law should live by, the public’s opinion isn’t formed on useless facts. SM Entertainment wouldn’t remove him from the company unless he did something bad or they feel like there’s no way to prove his innocence in court if he actually didn’t do it. That means something. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for fans to reach the conclusions they have.

2. We don’t know much about the victim for the time being. Please respect that.

Police have only released a statement (from Koreaboo so take it with a grain of salt) that the victim wasn’t a minor his gender. That probably means she was a girl but with Koreaboo’s poor translations it could probably mean she was a woman as well. Don’t go seeking out this victim if they haven’t revealed themselves. Don’t speculate. We don’t know why they haven’t come out yet and the last thing we want to do is subject them to bullying by people who want to defend Taeil. And we don’t need to make the victim a certain person or way in order to show that Taeil committed a crime. He should answer for his *alleged* crimes no matter who the victim is. We don’t have to retraumatize this person to bring them justice.

3. Do not speculate on other members when police haven’t commented.

It is so dangerous to start speculating and accusing other people of witnessing, knowing of, or committing SA. The point is we know the police are investigating Taeil. They have only mentioned Taeil. Do not start throwing around other members names with such recklessness.

You distract from the focus of the crime and are potentially ruining someone else’s life. People grow up with family and roommates that turn out to be killers or SA’ers and they didn’t know until police came knocking on the door. You can get the ick from someone or not fully trust a member but no one’s mind would immediately jump to “I get a weird vibe from this member and it must be because he’s an abuser.” That’s not realistic.

Most people get the creeps and just can’t explain why until a court file is sitting in their hands. Let’s not detract from the known criminal by speculating others. That’s for the police investigation. We will dole out appropriate justice in public court when the police let us know either by their reports or by whatever evidence gets released.

4. Do not drag other idols’ scandals into this.

First of all, what Taeil did isn’t a scandal. It’s a crime. Some of you have twisted agendas and it’s gross to use a SA case to further a hate train. Yoongi drunk on a scooter or Karina’s secret boyfriends or so-and-so’s bad attitude are nowhere near the level of this crime. Leave them out of it. It’s disgusting to try and equate Taeil’s crime to some scandal drama tea. Get a life.

5. Don’t be xenophobic/racist.

Here’s a saying: when you point one finger, there’s three pointed back at you.

South Korea has a systemic issue with patriarchy that aids in contributing to a rape culture. But all countries do with little exception. Talking about the Korean justice system or systemic misogyny is perfectly fine. Do not use this as a moment to “all Korean men”.

It might not sound like there is a difference but here’s an example: “The black community has to address its systemic issues surrounding abusers in the home” vs. “Reminder black men are predators and you can’t trust them.”

Do you see how that sounds? It’s easy for people to slip into racist or xenophobic rhetoric. A lot of people aren’t aware that they are doing it and don’t mean to at all. They just want to talk about the issue at hand. I get it. But remember the rates aren’t exponentially higher in Korea than other countries. We have bad men (and women) all over. No one wants their race or ethnicity to be lumped together as an evil entity. That is, in fact, racism.

So remember, criticize the system and the government and the community environment not an ethnic or racial group.

6. I can’t believe I have to say this but…

Please stop attacking each other on the basis of girl group stan vs boy group stan. You sound deranged. This is a crime not some little playground argument about who’s better.

A hard pill for me to swallow in my younger 20s was the Johnny Depp case. I had to come to terms with my own biases and perceptions that were immediately challenged the moment Amber Heard admitted to being an abuser. The same way it’s not all men well it is some women.

Boy group stans, don’t just attack because people are hurt and confused and insulting you. It sucks, especially knowing you don’t support these abusers. But you must see where they are coming from and try to explain in a more rational way why they can’t just lump you all together or act that way.

And girl group stans, You are not better for being a girl group stan. You yell that boy group fans “don’t know these male idols” but you don’t know these female idols either. Hyuna is literally dating (and talking about marriage with) a man directly involved in the Burning Sun crime. Multiple female idols have been exposed for bullying their members, being violent with them, and then trying to play victim. At the end of the day, neither side knows these people. Don’t start playing the blame game over the gender of idol you stan.

7. Finally, it’s okay to be emotional about this.

You are not the victim, sure, but it’s okay to feel emotions about Taeil or any future crimes. People don’t want to believe others are inherently bad. That’s not even a healthy way to live. We have to see the good or neutrality in people. It’s what humans do. So if someone’s music or acting or sports or any entertainment brought you peace or joy, that’s wonderful to indulge in. If you believed the persona they were giving, you weren’t stupid.

They chose to lie. They chose to be a bad person. And they chose to drag everyone down to witness their depravity. You didn’t know so there is nothing to beat yourself up over. No one knew this about Taeil when they were listening to NCT. Don’t feel guilty for complimenting him in songs or wanting to collect his photocards. He was very good at subduing his red flags and making people think he was something else. It’s about what you do moving forward with the information you have not about the past.

Me personally: I’m going to wait for NCT comebacks a few comebacks from now before I will feel comfortable listening to them again. With the way he’s been fired, Taeil won’t be making money on their songs but I still would prefer if NCT re-recorded at some point and I probably won’t listen to old albums for a while. I don’t own any NCT merch so that’s not something I need to worry about.

If my plan seems feasible and comfortable for you then you are free to follow it. If there is a different way you want to avoid Taeil related things then do what’s best for you.

(This will probably be deleted in September or if there is an update to Taeil’s case. Until then…)

Have a nice day,

~Jimble Jamble

#taeil #moon taeil #nct 127 #nct #sm entertainment #kpop

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nicksbestie · 6 months

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hi as of like yesterday yr requests are still open so i hope this isn’t a bother ! but anyway i was hoping to see some caregiver!reader + agere!johnnie ? preferably gnc reader but fem would also be okay ( whatever prior relationship you want :] ) don’t have many ideas for plot aside from maybe johnnie has had a bad day/is really stressed out so he kinda starts isolating himself, which reader respects but is also really worried about him :( so after a while reader uses maybe like a spare key to go into johnnie’s room and at first it just seems like he’s just upset but as reader starts trying to get johnnie to open up and trying to comfort him, he regresses which makes him more upset/panicky. whether reader has prior knowledge of regression is up to you but in general they’re just really sweet and supportive trying to calm johnnie down <3 maybe they eat dinner/reader feeds johnnie, and watch a movie/cartoon while cuddling ? ( little spoon johnnie ofc ) anyways feel free to add or take away anything i just want johnnie to be taken care of and as an agere i am totally projecting lol

Secrets - Johnnie Guilbert

Summary : Johnnie's biggest secret is exposed without him being ready, but it goes better than he thinks it will.

Pairing : Johnnie Guilbert/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : descriptions of mental health issues, depression, and isolation

Word Count : 1541

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Everyone has secrets. Some of them are terrible ones, skeletons in your closet, ones that would ruin many people’s lives should they escape out into the public. Others are small and simple, things they just like to keep to themselves, and wouldn’t hurt anyone if other people knew, they just don’t want them to be everyone’s business. Some people keep secrets to protect themselves because they would be embarrassed about it if anyone found out. Everyone keeps secrets, and sometimes they’re revealed at the wrong time. Johnnie had secrets, and he was in no way prepared for his biggest one to be exposed to anyone, especially not you, but sometimes life goes in ways that we just can’t predict.

Johnnie had been struggling a lot lately. That wasn’t a secret, and although you knew about it, you didn’t pressure him very much. He wasn’t the type to open up when he was overly pushed about whatever was wrong, and you wanted him to feel safe and comfortable coming to you when he was ready, and not before that. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t concerned, because you most definitely were. This bad spell for him was bordering on being one of his worst ones ever, and you were about to step in, because you couldn’t stand to see him hurting on his own any longer, even if that was what he told you he wanted.

Johnnie had begun to isolate himself for almost every hour of the day, only exiting his room to eat and use the bathroom. He didn’t talk much to you out loud, texting instead, as it took much less energy out of him to take that route. He didn’t like to talk about it, despite knowing that he most definitely needed to. You hated how he could be so self destructive, but you knew that you did the exact same thing when you felt the way that he did. So, you respected his space and always let him have it when he asked for it. However, it normally didn’t last this long, thus feeling the massive worry that encased your mind.

After a couple more hours, you continued to let your worry grow, but you decided to do something about it. You hated the fact that you were about to ignore the boundaries that Johnnie had put into place, but you were seriously concerned, and you hoped that he would be able to understand and forgive you should he be upset with your decision. You grabbed the spare key that unlocked all the doors in the house, kept in the kitchen just in case of emergencies, and gently knocked on his bedroom door. You weren’t going to just barge in, you wanted to give him the chance to open it himself. When he didn’t reply, you softly called out to him, telling him that you were going to open the door. He didn’t argue, so you did just that.

Walking into his room, you noticed that the blinds were closed, the lights were off, and he was quietly laying in his bed, staring at the wall. You immediately laid down next to him, letting him curl up next to you. You noticed the stained tear tracks on his cheeks, your heart breaking for him as he simply laid there. You let the both of you cuddle in silence, not wanting this to be a heartbreaking moment for the both of you, so you didn’t break the silence for a while. You knew that you should probably talk about what was going on, but the moment was so peaceful that you didn’t want to say anything. You both laid there quietly for about half an hour, taking in the comfort of the other’s presence, before you said anything.

“We should talk about this, baby. It’s getting worse this time.”

You could feel him shake his head against your chest.

“No. I don’t want to talk.”

“Honey, it’s important-”

“No!”

Woah. He very rarely snapped at you. He had almost never snapped at you, especially not when he was feeling like this. But, in all fairness, you had pushed him a little bit. You could feel the tears from his eyes soaking your shirt, and you decided to not speak any more for a little bit. You gently pulled his face up, wiping his tears away with the soft pads of your thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair out a bit with your fingers. You noticed that his eyes were widened more, much more glassy, and you definitely were concerned about it, but you brushed it off to the tears causing it.

You were more surprised when he pulled away from you, as he had never done that. You gently reached out to try and cuddle him again, but you noticed that he wouldn’t even look at you. He seemed to be panicking about something, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. You weren’t upset with him, but from the anxiety radiating off of his body, you could tell that he probably felt like you were. So, you immediately spoke up to try and help him recognize the fact that he was always safe and loved with you.

“Love, what’s wrong? It’s all going to be okay.”

You were now completely confused, as the second that you spoke, your boyfriend burst into tears. He seemed to be absolutely inconsolable, crying nearly at the top of his lungs and clutching the squishmallow on his bed tightly between his arms. You didn’t know what else to do besides just hug him, whispering comforting words as you told him that everything was going to work out, and that you were here for him. It wasn’t until he looked up at you with the same glassy-eyed look as earlier and spoke a few words when you realized what was going on.

When a choked out “I sorry” left his lips, you put together the look in his eyes, and unexpected crying, and the clutched stuffie, and immediately realized what was happening. Your boyfriend had slipped right into his littlespace, a littlespace that you were completely unaware of, and was absolutely distraught. You had been a caregiver in a previous relationship, and you quickly controlled your shocked face, bringing him as close to you as possible and gently stroking through his hair.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, angel, nothing to be sorry for. I’ve got you, you’re going to be alright.”

It took a lot of repetitive words and soft praises for Johnnie to relax, his crying eventually slowing when he realized that you weren’t upset with him, and that you were still there and still loving him despite his newfound headspace. He wrapped himself back around you, seeming to become a very quiet little. You were more than excited to get to know him in his headspace, so excited to get to love and spoil a little one, as it had been a long time. Less than an hour later, the two of you were still curled up next to each other, you simply hugging your little boy and whispering sweet nothings to him as he relaxed. You both enjoyed the quality time, and as it turns out, Johnnie is a very silent little, despite when he’s not upset. It wasn’t for another half an hour or so that you moved, and you probably wouldn’t have moved at all had it not been for Johnnie’s stomach growling.

You held his hand as you walked to the kitchen, calling him the most adorable as he rubbed his eyes with a fist. You put some chicken nuggets in the oven for him, before you went to the bathroom and you helped him remove the makeup that he’d put on that morning. He hadn’t gone anywhere, but he put it on to cover the dark circles under his eyes. You were gentle but bubbly, and you noticed that your little loved to laugh, and giggled at every funny face you made at him. Dinner went quite smoothly, him eating all of it, which absolutely warmed your heart, as he hadn’t been eating much lately due to his depressive slump.

Little Johnnie seemed to love food, and you were grateful for that, because you didn’t want dinner time to cause him to be upset again. After he had finished eating, you got him a popsicle from the freezer, wrapped it in a paper towel so his hands didn’t get cold, and tucked him in on the couch while you cleaned up the plate and put it into the dishwasher. He was wrapped up in a blanket, cuddled with his stuffie, and you sat down next to him as soon as you were done. You gently tapped through channels and shows as you waited for your little one to pick a cartoon he’d like to watch, finally settling on “Spongebob”, and he immediately wrapped himself back up in your arms.

He’d been in a dark episode for a while, but now, it seemed like he was able to see the light at the end of it, and you couldn’t wait to be here to help him through it all.

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @elliem505 @gvf23 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @jasperthefriendlyghostt @707xn

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie and jake #fanfic #jake webber fluff #jake webber fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert age regression #sfw fic #johnnie guilbert sfw #caregiver johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert agere

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seonghwaddict · 1 year

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EYES DON'T LIE — i. heat, physics and jeong yunho.

synopsis. you've always resented jeong yunho, and you were positive that the end of high school would've marked the end of your rivalry and hatred. yet now you find yourself in the same crappy hotel as him. assigned to be right next to each other much like the good old times. pairing. jeong yunho x fem! reader. genre. mini-series, fluff, slice of life, mature, academic rivals to lovers, non-idol au. chapter warnings. mentions of infidelity, immature teenagers, swearing. word count. 0.7k

playlist. chapter ii.

if you were asked to list three things you hated, it would have been the following:

1. heat

2. physics

3. and jeong yunho

first, it started with you two being in the same class for the entirety of elementary, middle and high school. you were an exceptionally hard working student; top of the class in every subject.

nearly.

because jeong yunho was just always equally as good as you. he just had to be. it’s not like either of you were first or second place. it was a shared space at the top. it was the most annoying thing. you hated it, but most of the time you refused to let it bother you. sometimes you thought about him too much, thinking about how if it weren’t for the constant arguing and you weren’t so petty, you could’ve been great friends. perhaps more.

unfortunately though, it seemed like his mission was to be a cocky smartass who just had to annoy you every chance he got.

like in chemistry class, you two were paired up out of a coincidental and greatly unlucky wheel of names spin. and he just wouldn’t stop taunting you.

“i think you’re doing that wrong.”

“one more word out of you and i’ll break this beaker with your face.”

“as if you could reach.”

“jeong yunho, if you don’t-“

or that time when you were assigned to sit next to each other in english for a full year. one day you walked in looking positively murderous because you hadn’t slept in three days. and he just wouldn’t mind his own business.

“damn, were you run over or something? who hurt you?”

“you. 5th grade spelling bee where you beat me by one word.”

“really?“

“no, of course not… actually maybe partially.”

or of course the times where’d you’d spit immature jabs at each other for no particular reason.

“you look stupid with your hair like that.”

“your lips are chapped.”

“stop looking at my lips, idiot.”

“i would but they’re so dry they might compare to your social life, it’s painfully hard to ignore.”

but then things got slightly more serious.

despite you warning her, your best friend started dating your mortal enemy jeong yunho in junior year. it wasn’t a surprise to you when they broke up and she came running to you, crying and stuttering out about how he absolutely broke her heart.

about how their three month long relationship came to a stop when he drunkenly admitted to cheating on her. multiple times. with different girls.

after that, any respect you had for him which wasn’t much anyway disintegrated into nothingness. though you did talk shit before, now it was a lot more frequent.

you found yourself and your best friend going on and on about how insufferable he was. how much you both despised him though you were usually the one throwing in more and more points.

to you, it was justified and perfectly valid.

he broke your friends heart, and soon after, you also heard about the things he’d say about you. spitting shit about how you thought you were “soooo much smarter than him” which you were and how you were “so obsessed with him” which you definitely weren’t.

you were more than relieved when twelfth grade came to an end. nothing could’ve ruined your day not even when the devil himself jeong yunho sauntered up to you with a cocky smile. you barely spared him a glance, even when he brought up the fact you were each other’s co-valedictorian—a title your school had come up with because they genuinely couldn’t choose who deserved it more.

after the ceremony, the two of your had to stand together for almost half an hour, receiving flowers and congratulations from teachers and parents alike. but, alas, before you knew it, it was over.

all the prolonged eye-contact and glares from across the classroom. all the accidental run-ins during your free periods. the heated yelling during debate club. analysing and picking him apart to find flaws, just to realise there weren’t any. the bickering. the frustrating and borderline flirtatious comments he’d make any chance he got.

it was all over and you’d never have to see him again.

playlist. chapter ii.

[ lilo's notes . . . ] and there is the first chapter. i hope you guys enjoyed this :)

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @blankjournal [ taglist . . . ] @diorwoo @yuyusuyu @loveyluv7 @ad0rechuu @h-nji [ permanent taglist . . . ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

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sgojoenthusiast · 1 year

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ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY FOUR: CAT AND MOUSE.

✧.* leon kennedy x reader

summary: Police offier Leon Kennedy had become obsessed with catching you finally, after so long of you slipping right out of his hands, only to end up fucking you against his car and letting you go so that you could continue this game of cat and mouse.

cw: fem reader, police officer! leon x criminal! reader, handcuffs, p in v, oral (m recieving), leon fucks you against his car, breeding kink, 'sweetheart', leon whimpers obvs, kinda public sex.

word count: 3.2k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

-`♡´-

It was dark, there was quite literally nobody around, so how had Leon managed to catch you? The only explanation would be if he was following you, waiting for you to make your move so that he could make his.

Truthfully, ever since the first moment your eyes had met his own, you did everything in your power so that you could bump into each other again.

Anytime he was around, you'd instinctively attempt to gain his attention. You would steal things you didn't need, break into places for no reason, start fights with little meaning - yet he had never managed to catch and arrest you. You were simply too quick and slippery for him to ever catch. You would always be gone before he’d managed to cross the street or run up to you to stop you.

You hadn’t a clue why you were so keen on gaining his attention. Perhaps, you thought, it had something to do with the aching sensation between your legs whenever your eyes would connect.

Nevertheless, today, you had an actual job to do and being caught would cause major devastations for you and could potentially ruin your life. You were actually trying not to be seen or caught as you were trying to steal files from somebody that had dirt on you and was attempting to blackmail you. But of course, who else would be around in a completely isolated area other than Leon Kennedy?

The one time you hadn’t wanted him around.

He escorted you to his car, claiming that you were under arrest for an attempted robbery.

“I have no clue what you’re on about, Officer Kennedy. Really, I was just on a walk.” You knew it was helpless to act innocent, yet you really wanted to wind him up a bit for pissing you off and arresting you, therefore putting on a seductive tone when using his name.

He had your hands behind your back, tightly handcuffed together, as he pushed you forward a bit, aiming to get you to his car faster. Leon was reluctant to admit that, despite his initial satisfaction at the idea of finally putting you behind bars, he was disappointed he wouldn’t get to continue this game of cat and mouse. He tried shaking those thoughts away, yet they continued to lurk at the back of his mind despite his attempts.

“Oh yeah? So, how come I caught you smashing a window and reaching in to open the door, hm?”

“Forgot my keys, Officer.”

Leon barked out a short, cold laugh. He knew you weren’t trying to make excuses, and that pissed him off even more than just the sight of your face, simply because he knew you weren’t taking this seriously, yet he wanted you to understand that he had won this time, and you weren’t getting away.

He had dealt with and faced much harsher criminals. Some of the crimes he had witnessed had left him with little hope for humanity. Yet, there was something about the way that you would just look at him that made him want to punch a hole in the wall and at the same time, fuck you where you stood.

“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart, I believe you.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and all you could think to do was look back at him with a seductive smile and mischievous eyes as you bit your lip and then turned back. He really couldn’t stand you. Even more so, he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.

You were fully aware that you had been caught, therefore, you had nothing better to do than to simply piss Leon off. If you had known that annoying him was all it took for him to push you up against the side of his car door, you would’ve tried a lot harder and would’ve gotten yourself caught long ago.

You were a few paces from the car, before you turned around to face him, his hands still gripped firmly onto your arm so it took a bit of effort and hurt slightly. “You know Leon, I could feel your eyes on my ass the entire time we were walking. You don’t have to tie my hands around my back if you want me to-”

A loud slam could have been heard from miles away, although all you could do was smirk and roll your tongue across the edge of your teeth in a seductive manner. Staring at him with half lidded eyes, you tilted your head at him as if to say ‘was that all it took?’.

“You really enjoy pissing me the fuck off, don’t you?”

One of his hands gripped your arm tightly, whilst the other moved up to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“It’s all fun and games, Officer Kennedy, no need to be so serious about it.” You fake pouted up at him with playful eyes, batting your eyelashes softly.

“Do you not see what you’re doing to me, huh? C’mon, sweetheart, you’re not stupid. We both know that.”

His hand on your chin loosened, dropping down to caress your jaw before he trailed it down your body with the lightest of touches. You raised your head slightly, bringing it closer to his own before whispering delicately in his ear. “And what is it that I’m doing to you, Officer Kennedy?”

Leon could feel his dick twitching in his pants, begging for release. “Stop calling me that.”

Looking up at him with deceitfully confused eyes, you replied. “Calling you what, your name?”

He was right, you weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what you were doing and exactly which buttons to press.

“C’mon Officer, it’s just me and you out here. Put me in my place, show me who’s in charge. We both know how much you want that. It’s driving you insane how I haven’t shown any signs of defeat yet, isn’t it?”

You were reading him so fluently and effortlessly - it scared him slightly. How were you so capable of seeing right through him? After a few passing moments, he could no longer find it within himself to care.

All he could focus on was the feeling of your breath fanning his cheek, the idea your hands were behind your back and the fact that you had asked him to put you in your place. Who was he to say no to such a compelling offer?

Flipping your positions, Leon now leaned against the car door as he shoved you to your knees. You licked your lips eagerly, as though you had been waiting for this very moment - the moment in which Leon finally gave into his temptations.

As he removed his belt and undid the zipper, his eyes remained emotionless on yours. If anything, he looked slightly annoyed.

He removed his dick from the confines of his pants, sighing deeply out of relief. His dick had been aching ever since he had first started following you. Just knowing that you were around got his dick hard.

Tapping his dick lightly against your cheek, he signals for you to start. You struggle a bit, without your hands, especially due to his length. You weren’t positive you’d be able to take all of him in your mouth, but fuck were you gonna die trying.

Your tongue trailed slowly up the length of his dick, before playfully teasing around his tip. Leon wanted nothing more than to fuck that smug look right off your face. For now, however, he just rested his hand on the top of your head as he watched you work his dick.

Shuffling closer to him on your knees, you started to take him inside of your mouth. You moved your tongue around him in a way that had him holding back moans, his grip on your head tightening as a result of him attempting to restrain himself.

Your eyes began to tear up the more of his dick you took into your mouth. Though, you continued to move your tongue around him skillfully nevertheless.

He couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that slipped from his lips at the feeling of your lips around his cock. You were taking him all so well and without any complaints.

Leon threw his head back, his thumb caressing your head as you bobbed it up and down, a trail of saliva dripping down your chin yet you couldn’t have cared less in that moment because all you could think about was pleasuring him. And even he couldn’t deny that you were doing such a great job at it - even if he loathed you ever so slightly for how you managed to plague his every thought and how you so effortlessly took over his life and made him into a pathetic mess.

Once he had moaned once, he couldn’t stop the string of whimpers and gasps that betrayed him and escaped his lips. He simply had no control left over his body, as though he belonged to you completely. Both of you knew that it was only you that would be able to elicit such a reaction from Leon.

The entire time you had your lips wrapped around his cock, your eyes never left his once. Every time your eye contact would break, it was the result of him closing his eyes tightly as he muttered out curse words. Though, in the end, he was cursing himself out for looking away in the first place. He could’ve had the image of you looking up at him with big, teary eyes whilst his dick was halfway down his throat printed in the front of his mind for the rest of his days.

It was this image that sent him to pull you off his dick before he could come. You looked up at him inquisitively, wondering why he had stopped. Yet, all Leon could think about was stuffing you full completely.

Lifting you up, he tugged you forward so that you stumbled into him, his lips grazing over your ear. “If I'm gonna cum, sweetheart, it’s gonna be in this pussy.”

And even if you so badly wanted him to cum in your mouth, the idea of him finishing inside of you had you feeling hot as you clenched your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction.

Pulling away to look at your face, Leon swiped his thumb across your chin in a sweet attempt to clean you up.

You had no idea where that kindness from just moments ago had disappeared to before he slammed you up against the vehicle once again.

For the second time that night, Leon had you pressed against his car. This time, he seemed far more impatient. He pulled down the fabric of your shirt, so that your bra would be revealed, until he was pulling that down too.

Moving your hair to the side, he started to kiss down your neck before he began leaving marks on your skin - claiming you as his own. He sucked a plethora of bruises into the skin of your neck before pulling away to view his work with satisfaction plastered all over his features.

Then, Leon dragged you over to the hood of his car as you stumbled and whined about how rough he was being, to which he simply ignored you and disregarded you with a roll of his eyes.

He bent you over the hood and pulled down your pants, revealing the thin, lacy material of your underwear that hardly covered the curve of your ass. Leon was mesmerised at the sight of you bending over his car, supported by your elbows holding you up, as you looked back at him, waited patiently for him to finally fuck you.

Leon ran his hands over every part of you he couldn’t touch and every part that wasn’t blocked by the annoyance of your clothing - he made a mental note to take you home next time so he could see all of you. However, he wasn’t gonna deny that the sight of your tits spilling out of your overly tight shirt and pressed against his car was one he was going to remember for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. You been waiting for me to fuck you, hm? Is that why you’ve had me chasing you around all this time? Tryna get yourself caught so that I can punish you like you deserve?”

“Depends, Officer. You actually gonna fuck me, or are you just gonna keep running your mouth?”

He shook his head, a smile of humour mixed with slight frustration and disbelief at your words played on his lips. “Running my mouth, huh? Then what is it exactly that you're doing, sweetheart? Always talking shit. Was hoping my dick down your throat would’ve shut you up.”

You bit your lip and raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ll have to try a lot harder to shut me up, Officer.” Leon simply rolled his eyes behind your back and continued to travel his hands across your body, exploring every inch and committing what he could to memory.

A singular finger teasingly pushed aside your panties as he ran it through your folds before bringing it to his lips and groaning lowly at the taste of you. He almost decided to eat you out before fucking you properly, yet he couldn’t ignore his dick that rested hard against your leg, aching for relief.

He pulled down your panties and you wiggled your hips in anticipation and desperation. The throbbing feeling between your legs clouded your entire mind, leaving you with little respect for yourself as you muttered out quiet pleads for him to fuck you.

All it took was for you to look up at him with those wide eyes for him to give in and finally take his dick in his hand and position it in front of your hole.

“Want me to fuck you sweetheart? C’mon, you’ve been a brat all night. You can ask nicely just this once, can’t you?”

You rolled your hips back in an attempt for him to put it in, yet after so long of studying your every move, Leon knew you far too well and immediately pulled back before you could even make contact. The only place your actions got you, was Leon smacking your ass harshly causing you to gasp at the contact.

“Shit! ‘M sorry, Leon- Please fuck me, I need it so much. I’m sorry for being bad. I just need your dick inside me, please! Needed it for so long.” You managed to spew out and although your eyes were red and teary from the hard slap against your ass, there was no denying the dripping of your pussy that was starting to run down your legs from just that one smack.

If the situation had been different, if you were anywhere but outside, fucking against his car - a police car, nevertheless, he would have teased you and punished you harshly for your misbehaviour (though he was positive if the circumstances were different, you’d have taken control a while ago). However, considering that wasn’t the case, and that in reality he didn’t think he had the kind of self restraint to punish you at this moment, he decided to forgive you and slowly began shoving his length deep inside of your dripping pussy.

Throwing his head back, he had one hand on the curve of your ass and the other gripping the back of your neck gently. You whined at the feeling of his dick sinking deep inside of you.

Leon began to start thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace yet with brutal force.

His mind was reeling at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him so generously, and he could no longer hold himself back for either your sake or his own. His thrusts increased in pace and force progressively before you were sobbing and screaming on his dick, no longer able to hold yourself up with your arms as you went limp against the car hood, grabbing at the car uselessly for any fraction of control or stability.

Leon's hair fell in front of his face as he concentrated on how his dick was moving in and out of you. He was practically infatuated with the sight, his eyes wide and unwilling to blink and miss out of any of it.

Reaching over, he forced you to stand up as he helped you keep your balance with one hand on your stomach and the other on your neck - his hold was light yet nevertheless it made your mind spin with pleasure.

Both of your moans got lost into the night sky. You were much louder than Leon, your moans breathless, fragmented and deafening yet you had no room within you left to care when he was fucking you so nicely. Leon was quieter, yet not silent. He cursed and whimpered out hushed moans into your ear, keeping his noises between the two of you like a secret.

“F-fuck. You’re fucking amazing, sweetheart. Sucking me in so perfectly - ahhh! Can’t get enough off you.” He whined in your ear.

The hand on your stomach snaked down to your pussy whilst Leon buried his head in your neck. His fingers began to play with your clit in a teasing and slow manner. The closer he got to his own orgasm, the more his fingers sped up.

You were losing your mind to the pleasure. His hand on your throat began to squeeze nicely as his dick hit your g-spot repetitively and ruthlessly.

“Gonna cum, Leon! Please, please! Finish with me.”

“Want me to cum in you? Please let me. Please let me cum in you sweetheart, need to make you mine so bad. Gonna knock you up and show everyone who you belong to. Please-”

As if on cue, your pussy tightened around Leon's cock as you cried out in pleasure, your vision going white as the knot snapped inside of you in a way it never had before.

Your orgasm sent Leon following you over the edge as he shot his load deep inside of your pussy, filling you up completely. His head buried itself even further into your neck as you threw your own back due to the immense pleasure that was overtaking you.

You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he recovered from his orgasm, both of you breathing in sync.

“Didn’t think you’d actually finish inside of me, Leon.” You joked, he could hear the smirk that your words had come from. All he could do was laugh exhaustively and mutter out half-apologies into your neck as he kissed it softly.

Even afterwards, as you were coming down from your high, Leon hadn’t taken his dick out of you.

“Gotta make sure it sticks somehow, ain’t that right?”

Once you and Leon had put your clothes back on properly and fixed the state you were in, Leon brought his lips to your ear, already regretting his future actions and his own betrayal to both his own morals and his work.

He gripped your hips as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “You gonna go back to teasing the hell out of me and making me chase you around after this? Or are you gonna let me catch you next time so we can do this again, hm?”

You pulled away in confusion, which only ended up confusing him as well.. “You’re letting me go?”

“I’m not gonna put a girl I’ve just fucked in jail, am I?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: i lowkey hate this so i may edit it in the future but also its so late as im writing this and im only 4/13 fanfics down and october starts in two days LMAO

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

#leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon x reader #leon x you #leon kennedy fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #smut #resident evil smut #🌑 resident evil

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auspicioustidings · 1 year

Text

Firewatch Part 4

Summary: You fight back and a punishment is handed out.

(Or, anytime Mhairi writes more than 3 chapters of anything we inevitably land on angst)

Word Count: 2.3k

CWs: Kidnapping, dubcon

You felt your legs give out which had the unintended but maybe welcomed result of Ghost realising he had been rutting against you and stopping with a bitten off growl, arm banded around you holding you up.

“It’s what’s best for you sweetheart” he whispered lowly into your ear. “You didn’t want to be all alone anymore, invited us to take care of you. And we will, promise we’ll take such good care of you.”

There was a numbness to you now and you tried to dig deep and find the fight. You couldn’t just give in, you refused to just give in. He was warm and sounded kind and there was a betrayal happening between your body and mind as you only barely stopped yourself from pushing back against him to chase that rutting, to try and make him move again. This was so fucked up.

You tried to bite at his hand but it was difficult with how large his palm was over your mouth. Still he squeezed your waist hard, knowing exactly what you had been attempting and scraping his teeth against your earlobe in warning.

“Don’t start with me, I bite hard.”

You whined and felt tears of humiliation from hearing that it didn’t sound entirely like a horrified whine prickle at your eyes. It sounded like a needy one.

“Oh, you’d like it wouldn’t you sweetheart? You need someone to bite hard, put you in your place a little.”

You hated him, you hated him so intensely that you got your legs back to solid beneath you through spite and then started kicking out to try and get him to loosen his grip enough to free your arms. Your entire weight plus the force of your legs wildly bucking out didn’t seem to phase him from a strength standpoint, but you felt a little satisfaction when he had to adjust his stance to stop from losing his balance.

“Knock it the fuck off.”

His tone sent a blaring siren of ‘stop’ off in your head. You hadn’t spoken at any length with this man, but you had not heard him sound like this, like some sensual predator ready to hold you down, unsure if he was going to fuck you or eat you right up. He would find that you were not meek prey. You had moved to a new town where you knew nobody, taught yourself how to do everything you needed to bring a ruin back to life. Giving up easy was not in your nature. You kept kicking.

The pain of his teeth in the juncture of your shoulder and neck that was revealed by the slouching t-shirt was white hot and knocked the air fully out of your lungs. He hadn’t been exaggerating, he bit incredibly hard, like he was trying to make sure the mark he was sucking into you went right down to bone. You thought he might rip your throat out, leave you here to bleed out, and you couldn’t even scream against his hand because you had forgotten how to breathe. You gave a few final kicks but it was a token effort to prove that he could not so easily conquer you before you settled down, chest heaving with the start of shuddering breaths as you tried to get enough air. In the fray he had hoisted you up higher, your feet no longer quite reaching the ground to leave you hanging like a ragdoll.

You didn’t even register that you could have screamed now, his hand had left your mouth and was instead gently cradling your head so he could lap at the bite, soothing. The other arm moved to gently set you down, turning you so that you could see his uncovered face. He was handsome in the tragic way a man with scars often was.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to lose my temper, shouldn’t play so rough with you should I? S’for your own good, needed you to calm down. Went all loose so pretty when you felt my teeth huh? Just what you needed” he said, a quiet and desperate ramble as he kept planting little kisses and licks at your neck.

You should stop him. You could just tell him to stop, find out if he would respect it. But it felt so nice to have his lips and tongue worshipping at the mark he had left. It felt like he was pressing prayers into your skin, reverent and gentle. Well if you were going to hell for enjoying this, may as well twist the knife. You pulled gently at his hair so you could bring his head up and press a kiss to his lips, waiting until he relaxed into the gesture and then letting yourself imagine this was any other situation so you could enjoy it for a moment before bringing your knee as hard as you could up into his groin and spilling out of the closet when he buckled.

–

There was perhaps a more elegant reaction you could have had when you found downstairs was much as it had been this morning only with the addition of Johnny. Whoever had been here was gone, the three firemen looking over at you with gentle smiles as if you had just casually come downstairs for a cup of tea. You were too late.

“Oh for fuck sake!” you yelled, not trying to get to the door.

You knew a little better now. No shoes so you weren’t outrunning anyone unless you had a significant head start. Johnny was leant by one of the windows, near enough to the door that you wouldn’t even make it out without him getting there first. He grinned and glanced out of it when you caught his eye, as if it was some big funny joke that whoever had been here was now far enough away that they couldn’t be seen through the glass. They’d probably driven over the rough tracks, probably already well out of the woods.

While Price looked somewhat disappointed at your language, Kyle laughed brightly at your outburst before coming over to you. He was still shirtless in nothing but those plaid pyjama bottoms. Why did this idiot have to kidnap some girl? He could have anyone he wanted, what exactly drove him to this?

“You don’t have any money for the swear jar luv, going to have to think of a different way for you to pay up,” he said with a cheeky grin before his eyes softened and he gently swept a thumb over your neck, giving a pitying little coo when you flinched. “Bloody git, need to muzzle him don’t we?”

Price appeared then, now interested in checking what Kyle was talking about. He didn’t seem anywhere near as casual about it, a storm gathering in his expression as he took your neck in. It was confusing that he should be the angry one here. He was still one of your captors. You heard footsteps on the stairs. Ghost must have been managing to limp heavily down them now.

“24 hour watch for a fortnight Simon, get yourself together because you start in an hour.”

That caught Johnny’s attention and he came barrelling over as well. It was ridiculous how the four of them just swallowed you completely, all tall and broad and intense.You imagined it must be like being under several weighted blankets, soothing but a little panic inducing when you realised that it was hard to move.

“Naw Captain, dinnae gie him that! He did it tae calm ye down didn’t he bonnie? Has tae do the same tae me if I get too reckless, if I might end up hurting myself cause I’m being a bampot” Johnny said.

You looked at those big liquid eyes of his, saw that they were genuine in their belief that Ghost was just doing right by you. You tucked away the image of teeth in Johnny’s throat and resisted the urge to agree with him to please him. To make him smile at you. To save Simon Riley from being stuck alone for the majority of the next two weeks because he was serving penance. The Simon who had made you hot chocolate and who Dosia had so easily taken to as safe. The Simon who had realised he had lost control, had spilled apologies to you and laid devout kisses all over the evidence. The Simon who wasn’t defending himself at all, was willing to take the punishment without complaint.

“What does 24 hour watch mean?” you asked quietly, feeling the oppressive silence and stillness that followed crushing down on you.

Kyle had been surprised you had spoken up, was pretty sure the rest were as well. None more so than Simon who was staring at you like you were some alien thing in front of him. Were you going to try and ask leniency or going to request he get a more severe punishment? Hard to tell. You were so different already from what Kyle had created in his head. So wild and stubborn. He had no idea what you might say next.

“It means he’ll stay in the watchtower for the two weeks luv. He won’t be allowed to come back here for anything unless it’s an emergency, he’ll be using the little outhouse and rainwater shower at the base and we’ll drop food off” he said, trying to be gentle and finding that he could not resist the opportunity to tease when you seemed so deep in thought. “He’ll sleep on that sofa you ravished me on.”

“Aye in front of us if I recall, was mean spirited of ye bonnie.”

You sputtered an attempt at an outraged string of words which only came out as noises and smacked at Kyle’s chest. They had kidnapped you, technically they had murdered you, and the fact that they could still make you blush with flirty banter was beyond what was acceptable.

In anger at yourself more than anything you refused to look at Simon and said nothing to save him, Price ignoring Soap’s outburst and instead only looking to you for any protest. You would not let yourself like these men, he could rot in that tower for all you cared. For two weeks. Barely sleeping. Hardly seeing anyone. Miserable. No, no that guilt could turn itself right around and find a home elsewhere, you were not entertaining the idea that you might not want that to happen.

“Yes sir.”

“Ye cannae be serious! C’mon bonnie, tell Price he’s got it wrong eh?” Soap said, weaving a hand through your hair to fix it a little and smiling still.

His smile was tight with worry now. Before, Johnny had thought you would be quick to defend Simon and he wouldn’t be punished. You were such a soft thing in his head, he had always imagined you’d enjoy baking but would be notorious for burning everything. He dreamt of dancing around the kitchen with you, giving you little kisses to remind you when to take things out of the oven. It didn’t match with his mental image that you could be stubborn and ruthless. Surely you would say something right? You wouldn’t let Si suffer because of a little bite? Well a big bite, looking at it even Johnny knew he had gone too hard. He could take that level of rough, but you needed to be treated with more care than that. Still though, he hadn’t meant it, was probably just worked up was all. Two weeks of 24 hour watch was too harsh.

“Got what wrong? That I’ve been kidnapped and had a chunk taken out of my neck for trying to alert the authorities? That it turns out you’ve actually murdered me? How awful to have to sit in the tower for two weeks knowing that you can leave and walk into town at anytime! Something tells me he’ll survive such an indignity!”

Not guilty, you would not feel guilty. You would not wince at the absolute heartbreak on Johnny’s face as you yelled at him. The shocked silence would not make you want to desperately apologise for being mean. The fact that you would actually be dead if not for the men in this room would not sway you. Their gentle care for you would be locked away tight in your head where you did not have to think about it.

“With me little bird.”

Price was firm, issuing a command more than anything as he took a step towards a door at the side of the living room you had not been through yet. The others were silent. Yes, Price knew this would be difficult for you, but he was not about to let you scream at his men like that. Murdered you? Absolutely not. They were only acting in your best interests, removing all the stresses of the outside world and looking after you so you’d want for nothing. He saw you glowering at him and puffed out his chest.

“Now. You can come easy or I can make you come hard.”

There was something in the double entendre that got you blowing out a huff, sticking your chin up in defiance and stomping after him and through the door. You could not let him throw you over his shoulder and carry you there, not if there was any threat that it might spark something unwanted deep in your belly. Price closed the door behind you and you found yourself in a small office, toe to toe with him as you both stared one another down.

“You are going to regret bringing me here.”

“You are going to forget there was ever a time that you didn’t want to be here.”

“Wanna bet?”

#cod #cod au #fanfic #mhairiwrites #tf 141 x reader #tf141 x reader #the angst has arrived #is this even good anymore? idk but I'm enjoying writing it so whatever

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